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THE 


Ashtabula  Disaster. 


B-V 


Rey.     Stephen    D.    Peet, 

of  ashtabula,  ohio.  1-- 


ILLUSTRATED. 


CHICAGO,  ILL.: 

J.  S.  Goodman — Louis  Lloyd  &  Co. 

London,  Ont.:  J.  M.  Chute  &  Co. 

1877. 


Copyright,  A.  D.  1877, 
By  J.  S.  Goodman  and  Louis  Lloyd  &  Co. 


Ottaway  &  Colbert,  Blomgren  Bros.  &  Co., 

Printers,  Electrotypkrs, 

147  &  149  Fifth  Ave.,  Chicago.  162  &  164  Clark  St..  Chicago. 


PREFACE.  iii 


PREFACE. 

The  narrative  of  the  greatest  railroad  disaster  on  record 
is  a  task  which  has  been  undertaken  in  the  following  pages. 
No  event  has  awakened  more  wide-spread  interest  for 
many  years,  and  the  calamity  will  not  cease  to  have  its  ef- 
fect for  a  long  time  to  come.  The  author  has  had  unusual 
facilities  for  knowing  the  particulars,  and  has  undertaken 
the  record  of  them  on  this  account.  A  familiarity  with  the 
locality,  the  place  and  the  citizens,  personal  observation  on 
the  spot  during  the  night,  and  a  critical  examination  of  the 
wreck  before  it  was  removed  in  the  morning  gave  him  an 
exact  knowledge  of  the  accident  whicli  few  possessed.  This, 
followed  by  intercourse  with  the  survivors,  with  the  friends 
of  the  deceased,  and  the  representatives  of  the  press,  and  by 
correspondence,  which  resulted  from  his  assistance  in  iden- 
tifying bodies,  and  searching  for  relics,  all  added  to  his 
acquaintance  with  the  event  and  its  consequences.  The 
author  is,  however,  happy  in  making  an  acknowledgment 
of  assistance  from  the  thorough  investigation  of  the  cor- 
oner's jury,  from  the  faithful  presentation  of  facts  by  the  re- 
porters  of  the  press,  especially  those  of  the  "Inter-Ocean" 
and  the  "Cleveland  Leader,"  also  from  the  pictures  taken 
by  the  artist  Frederick  Blakeslee,  and  from  the  articles 
published  and  sent  by  various  friends,  which  contained 
sermons,  sketches  and  biographical  notices.  He  has  to 
acknowledge  also  encouragements  received  from  Capt  T.  E. 
Truworthy  of  California,  and  his  publishers  J.  S.  Goodman 
and  Louis  Lloyd  &  Co. 


iv  PREFACE. 

The  discussions  before  the  country  in  reference  to  the 
cause  of  this  accident,  the  author  has  not  undertaken  to 
give.  These  have  been  contained  in  the  "Railroad  Gazette," 
the  "Railway  Age,"  the  "Springfield  Republican,"  the  New 
York  and  Chicago  dailies,  and  many  other  papers. 

Prominent  engineers,  such  as  C.  P.  Buckingham,  Cle- 
mans  Herschel,  E.  C.  Davis,  L.  H.  Clark,  Col.  C.  R.  Morton, 

E.  S.   Cheseborough,  Edward  S.  Philbrick,   D.  V.  Wood, 

F.  R.  Smith  and  many  others  have  passed  their  opinion 
upon  it. 

The  accident  at  first  seemed  to  involve  the  question  of  the 
use  of  iron  for  bridges,  and  whether  the  European  system 
was  not  better  than  tlie  American,  and  a  comment  upon 
this  was  given  by  Charles  Collins,  when  he  testified  that 
$25,000  more  would  have  erected  a  stone  bridge.  Yet  as 
the  discussions  continued,  the  conclusion  seems  to  have 
been  reached  that  riveted  iron  bridges  might  be  safe  if 
properly  constructed,  and  the  engineers  appointed  by  tlie 
State  Legislature  of  Ohio,  reported  that  they  "  find  nothing 
in  this  case  to  justify  our  popular  apprehension  that  there 
may  be  some  inherent  defect  in  iron  as  a  material  for 
bridges.  We  find  no  evidence  of  weakness  in  this  bridge, 
which  could  not  have  been  discovered  and  prevented." 

The  erection  of  iron  bridges  with  the  trusses  all  below 
the  track  as  contrasted  with  so-called  "through"  bridges 
has  also  been  discussed.  In  this  case  the  tendency  to  "buck- 
ling" where  the  track  is  supported  by  iron  braces  rather 
than  suspended  from  them  was  most  apparent,  for  engineer 
Gotlleib  testified  there  was  not  a  single  brace  which  was 
not  buckled. 

The  danger  from  derailment  and  the  fearful  result  which 
must  follow  in  high  bridges  like  this  is  sufficient  argument 
for  the  addition  of  guards,  or  some  other  means  to  prevent 
trains  from  going  ofi. 


PREFACE.  V 

These  questions,  however,  are  for  railroad  engineers  to 
settle.  The  responsibility  of  the  raih'oad  companies  to  the 
American  public  is  a  point  more  important.  The  "Iron 
Age,"  speaking  of  this  disaster  says,  "it  is  a  disquieting  acci- 
dent." It  says  also  that :  "We  know  there  are  plenty  of  cheap, 
badly  built  bridges,  which  the  engineers  are  watching  with 
anxious  fears,  and  which,  to  all  appearance,  only  stand  by 
the  grace  of  God." 

The  "Nation"  of  Feb.  15th  says :  "By  such  disasters  and 
by  shipwreck  are  lives  in  these  days  sacrificed  by  the  score, 
and  yet  except  through  the  clumsy  machinery  of  a  coroner's 
jury,  hardly  any  where  in  America  is  there  the  slightest 
provision  made  for  inquiry  into  them. 

"  Here  are  wholesale  killings.  In  four  cases  out  of  five 
some  one  is  responsible  for  them ;  there  was  a  carelessness 
somewhere,  or  a  false  economy  has  been  practised,  or  a  de- 
fective discipline  maintained,  or  some  appliances  of  safety 
dispensed  with,  or  some  one  has  run  for  luck  and  taken  his 
chances." 

It  may  be  said  of  this  case  that  the  coroner's  jury  were  as 
thorough  and  faithful  in  their  investigation  as  the  American 
public  could  ask;  and  yet  from  the  class  of  reporters  who 
conveyed  so  inadequately  the  results  of  that  investigation 
from  day  to  day  no  one  was  any  wiser.  The  conclusion, 
however,  has  been  reached,  and  the  verdict  corresponds 
with  the  evidence  given  in  this  book. 

We  have  no  space  to  give  to  the  harsh  words  that  have  been 
spoken.  These  have  come  not  only  from  the  bereaved  friends, 
but  from  papers  of  high  standing,  among  manufacturers 
and  others. 

Tlie  accident  has  been  bad  enough,  and  the  decision  of  the 
coroner's  jury  sufficiently  condemning.  The  action  of  the 
State  Legislature  has  also  made  it  a  matter  of  investigation. 

The  letter  of  Charles  Francis  Adams  also  called  attentioa 


Vi  PREFACE. 

to  a  demand  for  a  Railroad  commission,  and  the  subject 
has  not  been  left,  as  the  "Nation"  intimates  that  it  might, 
to  a  coroner's  jury,  nor  even  to  a  legislative  committee,  but 
an  enactment  of  Congress  has  already  passed  to  bring  the 
subject  before  the  Committee  on  Railroads. 

Doubtless  the  results  will  be,  increased  safety  of  travel, 
and  the  holding  of  railroad  corporations  to  a  strict  account 
by  the  authority  of  law,  for  all  accidents  which  may  be 
caused  by  the  want  of  skillful  engineering  or  proper  man- 
agement. The  Westeuhouse  brake  may  have  caused  the 
projectile  force  of  the  whole  train  to  have  fallen  upon  the 
centre  of  the  defective  bridge,  but  is  there  not  some  way  of 
stopping  trains  from  plunging  entirely  down  into  these 
fearful  chasms  ? 

Increased  appliances  for  stopping  trains,  proper  precau- 
tions in  putting  out  fires,  the  frequent  inspection  of  bridges, 
some  method  of  keeping  a  strict  account  of  the  numbers  on 
the  train  will  be  required. 

The  object  of  this  book,  however,  has  not  been  to  discuss 
these  points.  As  will  be  seen  by  the  narrative,  the  religious 
lessons  of  the  occasion  are  made  most  prominent. 

The  author's  sympathies  were  early  called  forth ;  access 
to  the  survivors  enlisted  all  his  sensibilities ;  correspondence 
also  showed  how  much  need  of  consolation  there  was ;  and 
the  book  was  prepared  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 
horror;  but  if  the  reader  shall  find  the  same  comfort  from  a 
view  of  the  lovely  characters  and  the  Christian  hopes 
which,  span  this  dark  cloud  wilh-a  bow  of  promise,  tlie 
author  will  consider  that  his  mission  has  been  accomplished. 


CONTENTS.  vii 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter  I.                              page 
Ashtabula 9 

Chapter  II. 
The  River  and  the  Bridge 13 

Chapter  III. 
The  Night  and  the  Storm.. 18 

Chapter  IV. 
The  Wreck 26 

Chapter  V. 
The  Startling  Crash 34 

Chapter  VI. 
The  Alarm  in  Town 43 

Chapter  VII. 

The  Fire  and  the  Firemen 49 

Chapter  VIII. 
Care  of  the  Survivors — 56 

Chapter  IX 
The  Robbers 61 

Chapter  X. 
Midnight  at  the  "Wreck 66 

Chapter  XI. 
The  Public  Excitement 72 

Chapter  XII. 

Scenes  at  the  Morgue 81 

Chapter  XIII. 
The  Rail-Road  Officials 89 


viii  CONTENTS. 


Chapter  XIV.                            page 
The  Arrival  of  Friends  96 

Chapter  XV. 
The  Wave  of  Sorrow - '. 104 

Chapter  XVI. 
The  Search  for  Relics 113 

Chapter  XVII. 

The  Passengers .120 

Chapter  XVIII.  / 

The  Experience  of  Survivors i.131 

Chapter  XIX. 
Personallncidents 138 

Chapter  XX. 
Kindness  shown - 144 

Chapter  XXI.  ; 

The  Memorial  Services J_...153 

Chapter  XXII. 

The  Suicide 159 

Chapter  XXIII. 

The  Character  of  Mr.  Collins 166 

Chapter  XXIV. 

The  Loved  and  Lost L— 170 

Chapter  XXV.  '     i 

Sketches  of  Character ^...177 

Chapter  XXVI.  1 

P.  P.  Bliss i...l83 

Chapter  XXVIL  \ 

The  Testimony  of  "Witnesses   ...11\7 

Chapter  XXVIII.  v 

The  Lessons  of  the  Event 203 

The  Coroner's  Verdict 207\ 


THE  jlSHTABULA  DISASTEB.. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ASHTABULA. 

'HE  scene  of  this  direful  event  is  situated 
on  the  Lake  Shore  Railway,  midway  be- 
tween the  cities  of  Cleveland  and  Erie,  and  about 
two  miles  from  Lake  Erie. 

The  village  itself  contains  nearly  thirty-five 
hundred  inhabitants.  At  the  mouth  of  the  river  is 
another  small  village,  making  in  all  a  population 
of  nearly  four  thousand.  Between  these  points 
of  the  village  and  harbor  many  families  of  the 
poorer  classes  have  made  their  homes,  the  most 
of  them  being  Swedes,  Germans  and  Irish. 
There  are  a  few  fine  residences  in  this  part  of 
the  town,  but  the  homes  of  the  more  prominent 
citizens  are  at  least  a  mile  away.  Near  the  depot 
there  are  several  small  places  of  business,  two  or 
three  saloons,  three  hotels:    The  American  House, 


10  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


the  Culver  House,  and  the  Eagle  Hotel,  kept  by 
Patrick  Mulligan,  It  was  one  of  the  worst 
places  for  a  rail-road  disaster.  Near  the  depot, 
not  six  hundred  yards  away  to  the  eastward,  was 
a  deep  and  lonely  gorge.  Across  this  the  ill- 
fated  bridge  was  hung.  It  was  just  at  the  point 
where  the  trains  from  the  East  were  likely  to 
slacken  speed.  Below  that  bridge  the  stream  ran 
darkly.  The  only  access  to  the  gorge  was  by  a 
long  flight  of  stairs  which  was  at  the  time  of  the 
calamity  covered  with  a  deep  bank  of  snow.  No 
road  existed  to  it,  and  the  spot  could  be  reached 
by  teams,  only  as  a  track  was  broken  through 
gardens  and  down  steep  banks  and  across  the 
valley  and  along  the  stream.  A  solitary  building 
was  in  this  gorge.  It  was  the  engine  house. 
Here  were  the  massive  boiler  and  engine  which 
were  used  for  pumping  water  from  the  stream  to 
the  heights  above,  and  so  to  the  tanks  at  either 
side  of  the  station  house,  in  the  distance.  Situ- 
ated close  by  the  river,  and  almost  under  the 
shadow  of  the  bridge  itself,  this  lone  house  be- 
came to  the  wrecked  travelers  a  refuge  from  the 
fire  and  storm.     On  the  heights   above  towards 


ASHTABULA.  11 


the  depot,  anotlier  engine  house  was  situated. 
It  was  the  place  where  the  "  Lake  Erie,"  a  hand  fire 
engine  stood.  Two  cisterns  for  the  supply  of 
water  were  located  near,  one  on  either  side  of 
the  rail-road  track.  It  is  difficult  to  picture  a 
place  more  retired  and  lonely  than  this  gorge. 
So  near  the  busy  station  and  yet  isolated,  in- 
accessible, and  seldom  visited.  Its  distance  Irom 
the  village,  and  the  nature  of  the  surroundings, 
will  account  for  many  things  which  occurred  on 
that  awful  night;  but  it  is  a  strange  tale  we  have 
to  tell.  In  the  midst  of  the  habitations  of  men 
untold  sufferings  took  place,  and  the  loss  of  life 
and  fearful  burning. 

The  fire  department  consisted  of  three  compan- 
ies, two  at  the  village  and  one  at  the  depot. 
There  was  only  one  steamer,  and  that  was  a  mile 
from  the  depot.  These  companies  were  under 
the  control  of  the  chief  fireman,  Mr.  G.  W.  Knapp, 
who  is  a  tinner  by  trade,  and  a  man  slow  and 
lymphatic  in  temperament,  and  one  who,  for  a 
long  time,  had  been  addicted  to  the  constant  use 
of  intoxicating  liquors;  a  man  every  way  unfit 
for   so   trying   an   emergency.     The   re-organi- 


12  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


zation  of  the  fire  department  had  begun.  Many 
intelligent  and  prominent  citizens  were  members 
of  it,  but  these  had  not  been  successful  in  secur- 
ing the  removal  of  the  chief,  as  several  years  of 
association  had  made  many  of  the  fireman  satis- 
fied with  his  services.  It  was  unfortunate  that 
the  control  was  at  the  time  in  such  incompetent 
hands,  but  no  one  could  have  anticipated  such  an 
event,  and  no  emergency  had  heretofore  shown 
the  necessity  for  a  change. 


/ 


RIVER  AND  BRIDGE,  13 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  EIVEB  AND  THE  BRIDGE. 

^*IIE  Ashtabula  river  is  a  shallow  stream 
^^J  which  runs  through  the  county  and  the 
town.  As  it  approaches  the  lake  it  widens  and 
deepens  into  what  constitutes  the  harbor. 

The  banks  lining  the  valley  of  it  are  high  and 
rocky  precipices.  They  form  in  the  rear  or  to 
the  southward  of  the  town  a  gorge  which  is 
called,  by  the  inhabitants,  by  the  significant  name 
"  the  gulf."  Near  the  depot  this  gorge  widens,and 
its  banks  become  less  precipitous ;  but,  even  at 
this  point,  the  river  flows  at  least  seventy-six 
feet  below  the  level  of  the  road,  and  is  four  feet 
deep.  Here  the  fatal,  but  far-famed,  bridge  was 
built.  A  grade  on  an  arched  viaduct  conveyed 
the  track  to  the  abutments,  but  these  stood  by 
themselves,  straight  from  the  bottom  of  the 
gorge,  two  lofty  pillars  of  stone  seventy-six  feet 


14  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


high  and  just  wide  enough  for  the  two  tracks 
of  the  road.  Flanking  these  were  the  lower  and 
smaller  abutments  of  an  older  bridge,  left  stand- 
ing, but,  for  a  long  time,  unused.  The  span  of 
the  bridge  across  this  gorge,  from  abutment 
to  abutment,  was  the  unusual  length  of  one 
hundred   and    fifty   feet.  The  bridge  was 

very  high,  and  loomed  up  in  the  distance,  tall 
and  dark  and  gloomy. 

Travelers  by  the  wagon  road,  at  a  distance  up 
the  river  a  mile  away,  would  stop  and  look  at 
this  structure,  apparently  built  high  in  air,  and 
watch  the  cars  as  they  passed  in  bold  relief 
against  the  sky,  almost  as  if  a  spectre  train  were 
traversing  the  blue  vault  above. 

It  was  a  dizzy  height.  There  was  something 
almost  fearful  in  the  sight.  The  recklessness 
of  danger  impressed  the  observer.  As  the  full 
outline  marked  itself  against  the  sky,  the  fasci- 
nation at  times  almost  reached  a  sense  of  the 
sublime. 

Here,  then,  was  the  bridge  suspended  higli  in 
air,lofty  and  tall  and  dark,  a  mysterious  thing.  It 
was  not  an  arch  lifting  high  its  springing  sides, 


RIVER  AND  BRIDGE.  15 


it  was  not  a  set  of  beams  supported  by  abutments 
below;  it  was  a  web  of  iron  netted  and  braced  and 
bolted,  heavy,  dark  and  gloomy  in  appearance, 
and  proving  treacherous  as  death. 

This  bridge  was  erected  in  the  year  1865,  by 
Mr.  Tomlinson,  according  to  orders  and  patterns 
given  by  Mr.  Amasa  Stone,  then  president  of  the 
road.  It  was  built  after  the  pattern  of  the  Howe 
Truss,  but  containing  some  elements  introduced 
by  the  president  himself.  It  was  constructed  of 
wrought  iron,  with  long  iron  braces  from  lower 
cord  to  upper  cord  twenty  feet  in  height.  There 
were  rods  stretching  from  top  to  bottom  and  de- 
signed to  carry  the  strain  from  brace  to  brace. 
The  panels  were  eleven  feet  long,  and  between 
these  the  strength  of  the  cords  depended  on  three 
iron  beatn^  six  inches  thick  and  eight  inches 
wide.  The  whole  width  of  the  bridge  was  nine- 
teen and  one-half  feet;  its  height  twenty  feet; 
its  length  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet,  in  a 
single  span. 

When  it  was  first  erected  it  was  discovered 
that  the  braces  were  placed  wrong,  so  that  they 
came  upon  the  sides  rather  than  upon  the  edges. 


16  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


The  structure  settled,  as  the  edges  were  removed, 
about  six  inches,  and  necessitated  the  change  of 
the  process. 

This  error  was  remedied  by  the  cutting  away 
of  iron,  so  that  the  braces  could  be  turned,  and 
this  change  occupied  nearly  a  year.  It  was 
watched  with  interest  by  the  citizens,  and  was 
regarded  by  the  builders  themselves  as  a  doubt- 
ful experiment. 

In  its  erection  Mr.  Tomlinson,  the  engineer, 
differed  with  the  president  so  much  that  he  re- 
signed his  position,  and,  even  Mr.  Charles  Col- 
lins never  acknowledged  that  it  was  a  work  of 
his  inventing,  or  a  bridge  receiving  his  ap- 
proval. Before  the  committee,  appointed  by  the 
legislature  of  Ohio,  he  acknowledged  that  it 
was  an  "  experiment,"  and  even  when  it  was  in 
process  of  erection  he  gave  no  orders,  but  rather 
left  the  responsibility  with  the  president. 

The  deficiencies  of  the  bridge,  as  acknowledged 
by  Mr.  Tomlinson,  who  made  the  drafts,  were 
that  the  braces  were  smaller  than  was  intended, 
and  the  weight  was  very  great.  Its  dead  weight 
was   3,000  pounds   to  the  square  foot,  making 


RIVER  AND  BRIDGE.  17 


an  aggregate  mass  of  iron  of  n>any  tons. 
The  rods  or  braces  had  buckled  or  bent  at  the 
first  trial,  and  there  was  danger  that  it  would  fall 
by  its  own  weight  into  the  creek.  As  it  was 
changed,  however,  and  the  braces  sprang  back, 
bj  the  elasticity  of  the  iron,  heavier  braces  were 
put  into  it,  and  in  this  shape  it  stood  for  eleven 
years  in  constant  service. 


18  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  NIGHT  AND  THE  STORM. 

'  HE  night  was  portentous.  All  natrare  con- 
spired to  make  it  prophetic  of  some  dire- 
ful event.  The  sympathy  of  the  natural  with 
the  historic  event  was  known  and  felt. 

Ominous  of  evil,  a  furious  storm  had  set  in.  It 
was  one  of  the  periodical  snow  storms  for  which 
the  season  had  been  remarkable.  Every  Satur- 
day throughout  the  month  it  had  returned,  the 
same  fearful  blast  and  fall  of  snow.  As  if  in 
warning,  it  had  come  three  or  four  times  during 
the  season,  and  now  with  redoubled  force  ap- 
peared. 

The  snow  had  fallen  all  day  long,  and  was,  at 
the  dusk  of  night,  still  falling  with  blinding  fury. 
The  powers  of  nature  had  seized  it  again,  and 
were  hurling  it  down  as  if  in  very  vengeance 
against  the  abodes  of  men.     Everything  was  cov- 


NIGHT  AND  STORM.  19 


ered  with  a  weight  of  snow.  The  wreaths  and 
fancy  drapery  which,  during  the  first  storm,  had 
engaged  the  attention  of  children,  and  pleased 
the  fancy  with  their  forms  of  beauty  and  delicate 
tracery,  had  now  increased  until  they  were  heavy 
blankets  and  burdensome  loads.  The  feathery 
flakes,  which  at  first  were  beds  of  down,  had  be- 
come solid  banks.  Everything  was  buried  in  the 
increasing  drifts,  even  trees  and  houses  and  fences 
stood  with  muffled  forms  and  burdened  with  a 
snowy  mantle.  The  streets  were  covered  with 
drifts  which  were  piled  high  and  wide. 

No  attempt  had  been  made  to  break  the  roads. 
The  citizens  had,  for  the  third  time,  confined 
themselves  to  their  houses,  and  had  not  even 
opened  the  paths  from  the  doors  to  the  gates.  It 
was,  in  fact,  one  of  those  blinding,  burying 
storms  which  occasionally  come  upon  northern 
homes.  The  greatest  comfort  was  in  being  at 
home  and  having  the  consciousness  of  the  home 
feeling.  Even  the  cares  of  the  world  were  shut 
out,  and  many  had  remained  in  doors  refusing  to 
be  called  from  the  loved  circle  and  comfortable 
fire.    Those  who  were  well  housed  felt  a  pleasure 


30  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


in  their  own  security,  and  often  looked  out,  grate- 
ful for  the  shelter  of  their  homes. 

But  to  the  traveler  it  was  a  fearful  storm.  The 
same  clouds  which  filled  the  sky  with  their  fleecy 
masses,  became  portentous  to  his  gaze.  As  the 
dusk  of  night  settled  down  with  more  fury  in  the 
storm,  a  fearful  foreboding  filled  his  heart.  There 
were  many  who  were  impressed  with  this  inde- 
finable sense  of  danger.  It  was  not  because  they 
felt  the  discomfort  of  the  journey,  'nor  because 
they  unconsciously  acknowledged  the  diflSculty 
of  the  way,  but  a  strange  presentiment  continu- 
ally haunted  them  and  filled  them  with  indefina- 
ble fear.  Brave  hearts  sank  within  many,  as  the 
strange  feeling  came  over  them,  that  there  was 
danger  in  the  air.  It  was  like  a  pall  to  the  souL 
It  rested  heavily  upon  the  spirits.  Stout  men 
had  to  reason  with  themselves  to  nerve  them- 
selves to  undertake  the  journey. 

This  presentiment  of  evil  was  the  common  one. 
Many  of  the  friends  urged  the  travelers  to  stay 
and  not  undertake  the  fearful  journey.  Parents 
at  Bufiklo  are  known  to  have  persuaded  a  daugh- 
ter to  stay  until  the   storm  was  over,  and  only 


NIGHT  AND  STORM.  21 


yielded  because  a  light  heart  was  so  buoyant  and 
hopeful,  in  the  prospect  of  a  holiday  approaching. 

A  wife  at  Rochester  urged  a  loved  husband  to 
stay,  and  was  only  comforted  by  the  promise  of 
a  speedy  return.  A  young  husband  at  Erie,  away 
from  his  loved  wife,  was  sadly  impressed,  and 
discussed  the  question  a  long  time  with  parents 
and  friends,  and  only  went  because  absence 
might  disappoint  the  expectant  companion,  and 
because  affection  for  a  little  babe  was  stronger 
than  the  fear  which  haunted  him. 

Even  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  was  strangely 
impressed,  and  had  so  far  yielded  to  his  pre- 
sentiments as  to  persuade  the  ticket  agent,  at 
the  station  where  he  was  waiting,  to  exchange 
tickets  and  to  give  him  passage  by  another  route, 
and  only  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  train, 
induced  him  to  take  it  instead  of  another. 

Among  the  many  others  the  same  forebodings 
were  felt,  but  unexpressed.  As  the  sun  went 
down  the  air  grew  colder.  A  blast  from  tlie 
north  arose  and  the  snow  ceased  falling,  but  the 
roads  and  paths  were  still  unbroken.  "Whoever 
undertook  to  breast  the  storm  or  to  pass  through 


22  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER, 


the  streets,  plunged  deeply  into  the  untrodden 
snow.  Horses  were  kept  from  their  accustomed 
duties  and  were  comfortably  stabled  from  the 
storm.  Nothing  was  stirring,  apparently ;  only 
the  strong  iron  horse  and  the  solitary  train,  which 
slowly  made  its  way  along  the  snow-covered 
track. 

Everything  was  behind  time.  The  train  which 
was  due  at  Erie  at  a  little  after  noon,  was  two 
and  a  half  hours  late.  It  should  hare  reached 
Ashtabula  before  sundown,  and  it  was  now  dark 
and  the  lamps  had  long  been  burning.  But  the 
engine  pushed  forward.  The  same  train  which  had 
started  from  New  York  the  night  before,  had 
divided  at  Albany ;  a  portion  of  it  was  plunging 
through  the  snow-drifts  of  the  mountains  of  Yer- 
mont,  and  now  another  portion  was  struggling 
amid  the  snow  near  the  banks  of  Lake  Erie. 
Both  were  destined  to  be  wrecked. 

Four  engines  had  been  used  to  push  the  train 
from  the  station  at  Erie.  Two  strong  locomo- 
tives were  straining  every  nerve  to  push  forward 
and  overcome  the  deep  snow. 

Within  the  cars  there  were  many  already  anx- 


NIGHT  ANJ>  STORM. 


ious  about  the  time.  It  was  a  long  and  well 
filled  train,  but  it  was  greatly  behind  time.  Those 
from  a  distance  had  been  delayed  throughout  all 
their  journey.  Those  from  nearer  cities  were 
impatient  to  meet  their  friends.  To  some  along 
trip  across  the  continent  became  an  immense 
and  gloomy  undertaking.  But  the  passengers 
were  making  the  most  of  the  comforts  of  the 
hour.  It  was  a  little  world  by  itself.  Men,  wo- 
men and  children  were  mingled  together  in  the 
precious  load.  Clergymen,  physicians,  profes- 
sional men,  business  men  and  travelers,  young 
men  and  women,  those  from  all  classes  and  places 
were  there. 

In  the  distant  east  and,  even,  the  distant  west, 
from  north  and  south  their  homes  were  scattered. 

The  continent  was  represented  by  that  train. 
It  bore  the  hearts  of  many,  many  friends.  It  was 
a  varied  company.  Each  one  was  pursuing  that 
which  best  suited  the  varied  tastes,  and  were  be- 
guiling the  weary  hours.  An  unusual  number 
of  parties  had  gathered  to  drive  away  care  and 
weariness  by  card  playing.  At  least  five  such 
parties  had  cards  in  their  hands  at  the  hour  of 


24  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


tlie  sudden  calamity.  Others  liad  been  beguiling 
the  time  bj  tales  of  adventure,  and  by  relating 
escapes  from  various  dangers. 

In  the  smoking  car  a  group  was  discussing  the 
weight  of  the  engines  and  the  amount  of  water 
used  by  each  engine.  Ladies  in  the  sleeping 
coach  were  preparing  to  retire;  some  had  already 
laid  down  in  their  berths.  Gentlemen  were  qui- 
etly dozing  in  their  seats;  others  were  taking 
their  last  smoke,  before  settling  themselves  for 
the  night.  Even  the  sweet  singer  had  just  laid 
aside  the  Sacred  Word,  and  was  quietly  meditat- 
ing, with  a  song  echoing  in  his  heart.  It  was 
just  the  time  when  every  one  was  seeking  to 
make  himself  comfortable  for  the  night,  notwith- 
standing the  storm  which  raged. 

A  few  thought  of  danger  as  they  looked  out 
into  the  darkness  of  the  night,  but  the  sense  of 
security  pervaded  the  train ;  when  suddenly !  the 
sound  of  the  wheels  was  stopped;  the  bell-rope 
snapped;  the  lights  were  extinguished;  and  in 
an  instant  all  felt  themselves  falling,  fallirg,  fall- 
ing. An  awful  silence  seized  the  passengers; 
each  one  sat  breathless,  bracing  and  seizing  the 


NIGHT  AND  STORM.  26 


seats  behind  or  before  them.'  Kot  a  word  was 
spoken;  not  a  sound  was  heard — nothing  ex- 
cept the  fearful  crash.  The  silence  of  the  grave 
had  come  upon  them.  It  was  the  fearful  pause 
before  an  awful  plunge.  It  was  the  palsied  feel- 
ing of  those  who  were  falling  into  a  fathomless 
abjss.  The  sensation  was  indescribable,  awful, 
beyond  description.  It  seemed  an  age,  before 
thej  reached  the  bottom.  None  could  imagine 
what  had  happened  or  what  was  next  to  come. 
All  felt  as  if  it  was  something  most  dreadful. 
It  was  like  a  leap  into  the  jaws  of  death,  and  no 
one  can  tell  who  should  escape  from  the  fearful 
doom. 


36  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  lY. 


THE  WRECK. 

'HE  cars  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  gorge. 
That  which  had  been  such  a  thing  of  speed 
and  a  line  of  beauty,  now  lay  wrecked  and  broken, 
and  ready  to  be  burned.  It  was  indeed  a  beau- 
tiful train,  and  was  well  known  for  its  elegance 
and  beauty.  At  this  time  it  consisted  of  two 
locomotives,  one  named  "  Socrates"  and  the  other 
"  Columbia;"  two  express  cars,  two  baggage  cars, 
two  day  passenger  coaches,  a  smoking  car,  a 
drawing-room  car  called  "  Yokahama;"  the  New 
York  sleeper  named  "Palatine;"  the  Boston 
sleeper  named  "City  of  Buffalo;"  the  Louisville 
sleeper  called  "  Osceo," 

The  bridge  broke  in  the  centre.  The  engineer 
of  the  Socrates  suddenly  heard  a  sharp  crack, 
like  the  report  of  a  torpedo,  and  looked  out  and 
saw  the    engine    behind  sinking.      With  great 


THE  WRECK.  27 


presence  of  mind  he  opened  the  throttle  valve  an 
instant,  and  putting  on  aU  steam  drove  his  engine 
forward.  It  was  "  like  going  up  hill,"  but  the 
Socrates  reached  the  abutment  and  was  safe. 
The  Columbia,  as  it  was  drawn  forward  struck 
the  abutment,  and  for  an  instant  clung  to  its 
leader,  held  by  the  coupling  rod,  but  as  that 
broke,  it  fell.  The  first  express  car  struck  for- 
ward and  downward,  and  landed  at  the  foot  of 
the  abutmeat,  while  the  locomotive  fell  on  to  it, 
completely  reversed,  with  its  headlight  to  wards  the 
train  which  it  had  been  drawing.  The  other 
express  and  two  baggage  cars  also  fell  to  the 
side  of  the  bridge,  forming  a  line  across  the 
chasm  with  the  rear  baggage  against  the  east 
abutment.  The  heavj'  iron  bridge  fell  in  the 
same  instant  with  an  awful  crash,  to  the  north, 
and  lay,  a  great  wall  of  iron  rods  and  braces,  ten 
feet  high  abross  the  gorge.  Singularly  enough 
the  track  and  top  of  the  bridge  remained  long 
enough  in  situ  for  the  bridge  to  sink  and 
sway  away  beneath,  and  then  fell  straight  down 
and  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  stream  immediately 
below  where  it  rested  before,  but  76  feet  down. 


28  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


in  tlie  midst  of  the  ice  and  the  snow  and  water 
of  the  stream.  Upon  this  the  first  passenger 
coach  landed  in  an  upright  position  in  the  middle 
of  the  stream  and  to  the  left,  but  close  by  the 
wreck  of  the  bridge. 

The  second  passenger  coach  followed,  but 
struck  around  at  an  angle,  and  turning  on  to  its 
side  fell  among  the  rods  and  braces,  and  was 
crushed  and  broken  in  the  fall.  The  smoker 
broke  its  couplings  at  both  ends,  struck  across 
and  through  the  second  passenger  car,  smashing 
it  in  its  course,  and  then  fell  upon  the  top  of  the 
first,  crushing  it  down  and  killing  many  as  it 
fell.  T  he  palace  cars  followed,  but  as  they  fell 
they  leaped  clear  of  the  abutment  and  flew  out 
into  the  air  to  the  left  of  the  bridge  with  their 
trucks  hurled  beneath  them,  and  dropped  76  feet 
down  and  80  feet  out,  and  landed  in  the  centre 
of  the  chasm. 

The  first  drawing-room  car  "Yokahama" 
landed  on  the  ice,  and  the  sleeper  "  Palatine" 
beside  it  to  the  right.  The  sleeper  "City  of 
Bufialo,"  however,  as  it  flew  through  the  air 
struck  across  the  two,  knocking  the  "  Yokahama" 


THE  WRECK,  29 


on  its  side  and  crushing  it  in  through  its 
whole  length,  and  landed  on  its  forward  end,  with 
its  rear  end  resting  on  the  other  two  and  high 
in  air. 

As  the  different  cars  fell,  every  person  for  the 
instant  was  stunned,  and  the  crashing  of  one  car 
on  another  struck  many  dead  in  an  instant,  while 
the  survivors  waited  in  suspense,  expecting  death 
would  also  come  to  them  at  the  next  blow. 

The  work  of  death  was  owing  mostly  to  the 
fall,  and  to  the  crashing  of  cars  and  heavy 
trucks  on  bodies  and  limbs,  and  even  the  very 
hearts  of  many. 

It  was  probably  instantaneous  to  the  large 
majority  of  those  who  perished.  But  a  few  were 
taken  out  of  the  wreck  with  any  evidence  of 
having  perished  from  the  flames  which  soon 
broke  out.  The  wonder  was  that  any  escaped  to 
tell  the  manner  of  their  escape. 

As  the  cars  struck,  splinters  flew  in  every 
direction.  The  floor  burst  up  from  below.  The 
seats  were  crushed  in  front  and  behind.  The 
roofs  were  crushed  from  above.  The  sides 
opened  and  yawned,  and,  as  one  expressed  it,   it 


30  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


seemed  as  if  every  limb  and  sense  were  being 
scattered  and  only  the  soul  was  left  in  its  solita- 
riness. 

More  than  one  imagined  that  he  was  the  only 
survivor,  that  all  the  rest  had  perished  in  an  in- 
stant. Many  thought  their  time  had  come.  The 
thought  of  fire  also  arose  in  many  minds,  and 
the  fear  of  a  death  that  might  be  more  dreadful 
than  that  by  the  crash. 

Without,  the  wreck  was  strewn  among  the 
iron  beams  and  columns  of  the  broken  bridge 
and  scattered  in  terrible  confusion. 

Ice  and  water  and  snow  were  mingled  with 
rods  of  iron,  and  heavy  braces,  and  beams,  and 
the  debris  of  cars,  and  the  bodies  of  men. 

Danger  threatened  from  all  the  elements.  If 
they  remained  in  the  wreck,  the  fire  threatened 
th©«i  with  a  horrid  death.  If  they  fled  the  fire, 
the  water  threatened  to  engulf  them.  If  they 
escaped  the  water  the  darkness  and  chill  of  night, 
the  storm  and  the^ awful  stunning,  bewildered  and 
appalled. 

The  very  sight  of  the  lofty  abutments  towering 
high,  impressed  them  with  fear.    The  wild  and 


THE  WRECK.  31 


lonely  gorge  strewn  with  snow  and  swept  by  the 
furious  storm,  conveyed  a  sense  of  wildness  and 
strangeness  in  the  extreme.  It  was  a  bewildering 
and  an  appalling  scene. 

As  one  after  another  of  the  stunned  and  stupe- 
fied survivors  began  to  emerge  from  the  broken 
wreck,  they  were  dazed  by  the  wildness  of  the 
place. 

The  experience  of  every  one  was  different. 
Some  dragged  themselves  from  the  debris  and 
escaped  through  the  broken  windows,  tearing 
clothes  and  flesh  as  they  emerged.  Others 
climbed  through  openings  in  the  side  or  top 
and  so  made  their  way  into  the  open  air,  and 
the  gloomy  night.  Others  broke  the  glass  doors 
with  their  fists  and  dragged  themselves  through 
the  openings  thus  made  and  sought  to  draw  out 
others.  Some  became  insensible  and  were  only 
removed  by  force  and  taken  by  their  friends  to  a 
place  of  safety. 

.  Strong  men  were  bruised  and  stunned  and  were 
led  by  their  wives.  Others  found  themselves 
bleeding  before  they  knew  they  were  hurt,  and 
even  hobbled  with  broken  limbs,  not  knowing 


32  THE^  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


what  was  their  wound.  Some  sank  into  the  wa- 
ter and  were  with  difficulty  rescued  by  their  com- 
panions and  dragged  out  upon  the  ice  and  snow. 
Many,  as  they  got  out,  found  themselves  amid 
the  rods  and  braces  and  hardly  knew  which  way 
to  turn.  Some  emerged  from  the  doors  and  fell 
into  the  snow  and  water.  A  lady  climbed  out  a 
window  and  walked  on  the  eides  of  the  car  that 
lay  wrecked  beneath,  and  climbed  down  the  back 
of  a  man  who  was  willing  to  become  a  ladder  for 
her  escape.  Another  escaped  with  broken  limbs 
which  by  force  she  had  dragged  from  beneath  the 
wreck,  and  then  by  the  rods  and  braces  drew  her- 
self to  shore  through  the  water  into  which  she 
had  fallen.  Another  still  was  able  to  get  out  of 
the  car  where  lay  her  child  and  nurse,  and  was 
dragged  in  her  night  clothes  through  the  water 
and  snow,  and  across  the  ice  and  then  stood  upon 
the  bank  in  the  storm  like  a  spectre,  exclaiming : 
"There  is  my  child,  I  hear  its  voice."  A  father 
rescued  his  little  children,  mere  babies  as  they 
were,  and  placed  them  on  the  snow  for  strangers 
to  take,  and  then  returned  for  his  wife.  She  is 
held  by  the  wreck  and  is  badly  hurt  and  exclaims 


THE  WRECK.  ,  33 


that  she  cannot  be  saved,  but  begs  her  husband 
to  cut  her  throat  lest  the  fire  should  reach  her 
and  she  be  burned  to  death.  She  is,  however, 
rescued  and  the  whole  family  is  safe.  A  gentle- 
man gets  out  but  finds  that  his  limbs  will  not 
obey  his  will,  but  sink  beneath  his  weight, 
and  he  is  obliged  to  crawl  on  hands  and  knees 
to  a  place  of  safety.  After  all  others  have  escaped, 
something  attracts  the  attention  of  those  on  the 
bank,' as  if  a  coat  were  flapping  in  the  wind. 
Kext  a  man  appears  as  if  attempting  to  arise, 
and  then  the  man  emerges  from  the  region  of 
the  flames,  and  is  helped  to  the  shore  by  others. 

Many  became  so  exhausted  and  faint  that  they 
fell  senseless  upon  the  snow  and  were  drawn  by 
others  to  a  place  of  safety.  It  is  even  thought 
that  some  were  so  bewildered  that  they  wandered 
into  the  broken  places  in  the  ice  and  were 
drowned. 

It  was  but  a  very  few  minutes  before  all  who 
could,  had  escaped  and  the  rest  were  still  strug- 
gling to  get  out  or  were  already  dead. 


84  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  Y. 


THE   STARTLING    CRASH. 

'  HE  citizens  were  startled  by  a  sudden  crash. 
Those  who  lived  near  the  bridge  knew  that 
the  train  was  late.  Many  of  them  were  in  some 
way  connected  with  the  road,  either  as  telegraph 
or  baggage  men  or  in  some  capacity  of  the  rail- 
road service. 

For  some  reason  there  was  an  expectancy 
among  them  all.  Those  who  dwelt  on  the  banks 
of  the  gorge  could  look  from  their  rear  windows 
and  see  each  train  as  it  came.  As  the  first  awful 
crash  was  heard  the  whole  neighborhood  was 
startled.  Then  as  the  ominous  sound  of  car 
following  car  fell  upon  the  ear,  crash  after  crash 
in  quick  succession,  the  horrible  consciousness 
came  to  all  with  appalling  force.  Some  started 
to  their  feet  with  alarm.  Others  rushed  to  the 
doors   and  hastened  to   the   scene.     One  lady, 


THE  STARTLING  CRASH.  36 


Mrs.  Apthorp,  exclaimed  to  her  husband  in  terror 
and  great  alarm :  "  My  God,  Henry,  No.  5  has 
gone  off  the  bridge."  As  her  husband  seized 
his  hat  and  coat  and  hastened  out  of  the  door, 
with  a  woman's  sympathy  she  put  the  camphor 
bottle  into  his  hands,  thinking  of  the  wounded, 
and  the  suffering  which  must  follow. 

But  a  few  minutes  had  passed  before  a  number 
were  at  the  depot.  The  engineer  of  the  pump- 
engine  was  standing  on  the  depot  platform  as 
the  train  approached.  As  he  heard  the  sound 
he  looked  up  and  ftould  see  the  cars  from  the 
middle  of  the  train,  plunge  off  to  the  side  of  the 
bridge,  and  fall  into  the  abyss.  The  headlight  of 
the  engine  was  above  the  track,  but  the  passenger 
cars  were  falling  behind  it.  The  head  painter 
was  also  in  his  shop  and  heard  the  crash.  The 
saloonkeeper  of  one  of  the  hotels,and  the  foreman 
of  the  fire  engine  "  Lake  Erie,"  also  heard  and 
saw  the  fall.  These  were  the  first  to  start  for  the 
wreck,  and  reached  it  very  soon.  Mr.  Apthorp 
also  was  early  on  the  ground.  These,  as  they 
approached  were  appalled  at  the  awful 
scene.     The  engineer  seized  an  axe  and  pail  as 


86  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


the  first  things  which  were  at  hand,  and  hardly 
knowing  what  he  was  doing,  attempted  to  break 
the  doors  and  windows,  for  the  wounded  to 
escape.  Mr.  Tinlay  plunged  into  the  water  and 
swam  to  the  other  side  to  rescue  those  who  were 
at  a  distance  in  the  wreck.  The  omnibus  man 
began  to  chop  to  get  an  opening  for  those  within, 
but  cut  an  awful  gash  into  his  foot,  and  was 
obliged  to  cease.  Mr.  Apthorp,  more  deliberate 
and  self-controlled,  first  thought  of  the  bell  and 
of  giving  the  alarm,  but  hastened  to  the  train. 
He  went  from  car  to  car,  entering  such  as  were 
open  and  could  be  reached,  and  sought  to  help  out 
those  who  might  be  left  inside.  Others  arrived 
and  helped  the  wounded  to  escape  from  the 
water  and  ice,  and  up  the  bank. 

All  were  excited  and  hardly  knew  what  they 
were  doing  and  did  not  think  of  what  next  to  do. 
The  engineer  fiuttered  to  and  fro,  excited  and 
uncontrolled.  The  saloon  keeper  assisted  a  few 
and  then  disappeared.  Some  who  arrived  stood 
on  the  bank  amazed,  and  appalled,  but  idle  and 
passive,  amid  the  scene. 

In  the  meantime  the  flames  began  to  arise.    It 


THE  STARTLING  CRASH.  37 


was  only  a  little  glimmering  light  at  first,  so 
small  that  as  the  passengers  pass  thej  throw 
snow  and  a  portion  of  it  is  quenched.  A  few 
buckets  of  water  thrown  at  tliis  time,  would  have 
sufficed  to  have  kept  down  the  flame.  But  the 
critical  moment  was  passed.  The  fire  began  at 
both  ends  of  the  wreck,  and  rapidly  spread.  It 
was  just  a  little  flame  on  the  east  side  underneath 
the  sleeper.  It  was  brighter  in  the  smoker  and 
in  the  heap  near  the  bridge,  but  it  spread  from 
car  to  car,  and  soon  enveloped  the  whole.  No 
one  thought  that  the  fire  could  be  prevented. 
The  desire  to  rescue  the  wounded,  and  save  the 
living,  was  more  urgent.  It  was  too  constraining 
for  any  deliberate  thought,  it  crowded  out  every 
effort  to  prevent  the  spreading  of  the  flames. 
Every  one  was  appalled,  and  overwhelmed,  and 
did  that  which  seemed  most  pressing  at  the 
moment. 

The  brakeman,  Stone,  who  had  escaped  unhurt, 
thought  only  of  another  train  which  was  expected 
soon.  He  hastened  to  the  telegraph  office  to  tell 
of  the  wreck,  and  to  stop  the  coming  train.  The 
conductor  was  almost  paralyzed  with  terror  and 


88  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


became  frantic  with  excitement,  and  rushed  to 
and  fro,  calling  for  help,  and  it  is  said  was  kept 
with  difficulty  from  throwing  himself  into  the 
fire. 

The  flames  kept  arising.  They  spread  far  and 
wide.  They  ascended  high  and  still  higher. 
They  filled  the  valley.  A  cloud  of  smoke 
ascended,  too.  It  was  black  and  dense  and 
pitchy.  It  came  from  the  paint  and  varnish, 
and  the  materials  of  that  gilded  wreck.  It  was 
stifling  to  the  breath  and  deadly  to  all  who 
breathed  it.  It  enveloped  the  ruins.  It  even 
darkened  the  sky  and  rolled  a  thick  cloud  through 
the  awful  gorge.  The  worst  of  fears  began  now 
to  be  realized.  Horror  seized  the  living,  for  death 
now  claimed  its  victims,  and  man  was  powerless 
to  deliver.  "Within  the  awful  canopy  the  flames 
shot  up,  and  from  among  them  came  forth  groans 
and  shrieks  and  cries  of  agony  and  despair. 

Then  followed  the  most  heart-rending  scenes 
and  incidents.  Those  who  were  without,  but 
who  had  friends  still  left  in  the  burning  cars, 
shouted  loud  and  begged  that  the  fire  might  be 
put  out;  they  even  sought  to  go  back  to  get  their 


THE  STARTLING  CRASH.  89 


friends.  Yells  arose  from  the  valley,  and  were 
echoed  in  shouts  from  the  top  of  the  abutments, 
and  one  wild  scene  of  excitement  pervaded  the 
spot.  A  little  child  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  Papa, 
O,  Papa,  take  me!"  A  woman  cried  from  within 
a  car,  "  Oh  save  me,  for  God's  sake  take  my 
child!"  A  man  had  clasped  a  woman,  to  carry 
her  from  the  flames,  but  her  foot  was  caught,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  leave  her  and  save  himself. 

Another  saw  underneath  the  floor  of  a  car,  a 
man  and  a  woman  lying  there  and  calling  for 
help;  he  tried  to  extricate  them,  but,as  the  flames 
arose,  he  went  to  the  firemen  and  begged  them 
to  put  on  water  and  save  the  living. 

Mr.  Apthorp  saw  a  woman  tiying  to  get  out 
of  the  window  of  a  car,  high  up  amid  the  ruins ; 
she  was  half  way  out  and  called  for  help.  He 
hastened  to  the  rescue,  but  the  flames  arose  be- 
tween him  and  her,  and  she  perished  there. 

Two  men  were  seen,  sitting  m  their  seats,  sur- 
rounded by  the  flames,  but  they  perished  and  no 
one  could  save  them.  One  man  stood  by  his 
berth  and  burned  to  death,  holding  to  its  side. 
A    gentlemen,    supposed   by   some   to  be  Mr. 


40  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


Brunner  of  Wisconsin,  and  by  others,  to  be  Mr. 
P.  P.  Bliss,  the  sweet  singer,  was  seen  to 
emerge  and  then  to  go  back,  saying  that  he  will 
perish  with  his  family. 

A  gentleman  was  seen  in  the  midst  of  the 
flames,  standing  as  if  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  fire, 
until  he  fell.  The  most  appalling  sounds  and 
sights  shock  every  heart,  and  send  a  shiver  of 
horror  through  every  frame.  The  howl  of  a  poor 
wounded  dog  echoes  through  the  valley. 

A  woman,  whose  children  have  already  per- 
ished, was  seen  lifting  up  her  hands  and  beseech- 
ing help,  and  was  at  last  rescued,  among  the  last, 
awfully  burned,  and  died  in  a  few  days  from  her 
wounds.  The  last  one  removed  was  the  fireman, 
and  then  this  poor  dog,  which  had  kept  up  its 
piteous  howling. 

The  living  were  driven  from  the  wreck,  and 
could  only  stand  and  look  upon  the  awful  scene. 
A  cry  arose — a  horrid  cry;  it  was  not  a  shriek; 
it  was  not  a  groan,  nor  even  a  cry  for  help,  but 
it  was  a  plaintive,  melancholy  wail — the  despair- 
ing cry  of  those  who  knew  that  they  must  die. 
It  was  a  prolonged,  an  agonized,  a  heart-rending 


THE  STARTLING  CRASH.  41 


moan;  it  was  the  sound  of  Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  Oh! 
Oh!  Oh!  Then  all  were  dead,  and  silence  set- 
tled down  upon  the  scene — the  awful  silence 
which  conies  upon  the  dead. 

The  parched  lips  were  sealed  forever;  the  stifled 
breath  could  no  longer  send  forth  a  cry  or  groan ; 
the  carnival  of  death  had  at  last  silenced  all  its 
victims;  the  slaughter  was  complete.  "Blood 
and  lire,  and  vapor  of  smoke."  The  fl.ame8  leaped 
and  danced,  and  Ufted  high  their  heads,  and 
death  was  exultant  in  all  its  forces.  The  canopy 
of  blackness  arched  the  snow-covered  valley, 
while  the  fiery  billows  rolled  between.  All  that 
man  could  do  was  to  stand  and  look,  upon  the 
scene,  appalled. 


43  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTEK  yi. 


THE   ALAKM   IN   TOWN. 

*HE  citizens  of  the  village  were  sitting  by 
their  fires,  or  at  their  tables,  or  in  their 
places  of  business.  A  sound  was  heard !  It  was 
a  sudden,  startling  sound.  To  those  who  were 
living  near  the  depot,  it  was  a  succession  of 
sounds;  first  a  crash,  then  a  fall,  then  a  distinct 
sound  for  every  car.  To  those  who  were  at  a 
distance  it  was  a  single,  but  a  prolonged  and 
terrible  crash.  To  those  who  were  within  doors 
it  seemed  like  a  sudden  fall  of  a  distant  building, 
or  the  nearer  slide  of  a  heavy  body  of  snow,  but 
much  more  ominous.  Some  imagined  they 
heard  a  sound  that  followed,  which  they  supposed 
to  be  the  wailing  of  the  wind.  It  startled  the 
inhabitants  in  many  houses,  and  was  heard  more 
than  a  mile  away.  Presently  the  sharp  alarm  of 
fire  was  heard,  and  the  bells  rang  out  their  peal- 
ing notes. 


THE  ALARM  IN  TO  WN. 


Many  started  from  their  seats,  at  the  thought 
of  fire  on  such  a  night.  Presentl}'^  the  sky  was 
illuminated :  a  strange  glare  filled  the  heavens. 
It  was  not  like  a  distant  flame,  that  cast  its 
shadow  on  the  sky.  It  was  not  like  a  nearer  fire 
that  shot  up  sparks  and  smoke.  It  was  a  glare 
that  pervaded  the  whole  horizon.  It  cast  a  pale 
and  sickly  color  into  the  fleecy  air.  It  covered 
even  the  snow  with  a  pinkish,  almost  crimson, 
hue.  It  seemed  like  an  extensive  burning,  as  if 
the  flames  were  suddenly  arising  from  wide- 
spread structures.  No  one  could  tell,  however, 
what  it  was,  nor  what  was  the  matter. 

The  men  who  rushed  into  the  street  first 
whispered,  it  was  an  oil  train,  that  had  caught  fire 
on  the  track.  Others  said  that  it  was  the  build- 
ing at  the  depot.  Women  who  were  kept  at 
home  were  impressed  that  it  was  something  more 
than  a  common  fire.  Uneasiness  seized  the  aged 
who  were  residing  in  houses  far  distant.  Many 
hastened  for  the  engines;  others  ran  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  light.  All  plunged  into  the  deep  snow, 
and,  out  of  breath,  could  only  follow  in  single  file 
along  the  path  which  the  foremost  had  broken. 


44  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


A  long  line  of  men  and  boys  reached  from  the 
main  street  toward  the  fatal  spot.  Plorses  and 
teams  plunged  madly  by.  Every  available  horse 
in  one  of  the  stables  was  put  into  use.  The 
steamer  was  got  out.  The  horses  attached 
pulled  and  tugged  the  massive  load. 

"  Protection"  engine  was  also  manned  at  first, 
but  afterwards  drawn  by  a  team  secured.  Hose- 
carts  were  taken  for  a  distance,  and  then  horses 
were  attached  to  these. 

The  villagers  had  become  thoroughly  aroused, 
and  were  straining  every  nerve  to  reach  tlie  fire. 
It  had  become  known  that  the  bridge  was  broken, 
and  a  passenger  train  was  wrecked  in  the  dread- 
ful gorge.  An  unregulated  crowd  was  rushing 
with  all  haste  through  the  impeding  drifts.  The 
thought  with  all  was  to  hasten  forward,  and  save 
the  living.  It  seemed  an  age  bc;fore  they  could 
reach  the  spot.  Many  became  exhausted  by 
their  efforts.  The  snow  and  drifts  were  so  deep 
that  none  could  make  headway,  except  with 
difficulty.  Even  teams  were  detained  by  the 
snow.  It  was  at  least  twenty  minates  before  the 
citizens  arrived. 


THE  ALARM  IN  TOWN.  46 


Time  enough  had  then  passed  for  the  work  of 
death.  The  wounded  passengers  had  re- 
covered from  the  stunning  fail,  and  arisen  to 
their  feet  and  escaped  to  the  shore,  assisting  one 
another  from  the  wreck. 

Kearly  all  who  were  in  the  forward  car  had 
escaped,  except  those  who  had  been  crushed 
by  the  trucks,  which  had  broken  through 
the  roof,  and  fell  upon  them.  One  had  even, 
after  his  escape,  looked  in  the  window,  and  put 
his  face  near  the  cheek  of  his  companion,  and 
found  him  dead.  Those  in  the  smoker,  had 
cHmbed  out  and  looked  back  to  see  how  com- 
plete, the  sweep  of  the  burning  stove  had  been, 
which  had  carried  several  before  it  to  their  death. 
One  had  fallen  out  of  a  gaping  seam  made  in  the 
side  of  that  car,  and  looked  back  to  see  another 
man  caught  as  the  car  closed  again,  and  thought 
to  himself  that  it  had  opened  on  purpose  to  let 
him  out. 

Those  in  the  sleeping  coaches  who  were  alive, 
had  also  escaped,  and  made  their  way  to  land. 
One  gentleman,  Mr.  Brewster,  who  was  but  little 
hurt,  had  assisted  a  man  who  was  badly  wounded 


46  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


and  helpless  amid  the  wreck,  and  laid  him  down 
at  the  east  abutment,  and  then  crossed  the 
stream  again  and  called  out  to  others  saying: 
"This  way,  here's  a  house!"  Women  had  es- 
caped from  the  rear  sleeping  coach  and  were 
already  at  the  shore. 

Miss  Sheppard,  who  was  unhurt,  had  reached 
the  bank  and  requested  some  one  to  help  her  up, 
and  then  made  herself  useful  in  aiding  others. 
Those  who  had  escaped  on  the  north  side  were 
already  making  their  way  through  the  deep  drifts 
and  the  lonely  valley  and  up  the  steep  embank- 
ment. Those  who  were  near  had  done  all  they 
could  to  rescue  the  living,  and  the  flames  were 
already  arising  and  nearly  covered  the  scene. 
All  this  had  occurred  before  the  citizens  from  tha 
town  could  reach  the  spot.  It  was  then  too  late 
to  do  anything  to  save  the  wounded,  or  even  to 
keep  the  flames  from  destroying  life.  To  be 
sure  the  fire  engine  stood  in  that  engine  house 
upon  the  hill,but  it  was  never  moved.  The  pump 
engine  also  stood  in  the  lonely  valley,  with  its 
steam  up,  but  it  was  not  used.  There  was  also 
hose  in  the  upper  engine  house  not  six  hundred 


THE  ALARM  IN  TO  WN.  47 


yards  away,  which  would  lit  a  plug  in  the 
house  by  the  river.  But  in  the  confusion 
of  the  moment  no  one  had  thought  of  engines,  or 
of  hose,  and  not  even  buckets  had  been  brought 
down.  Meanwhile,  the  teams  from  town  were 
plunging  on,  dragging  the  steamer  and  the  hose 
through  the  heavy  drifts. 

The  station  agent,  who  had  received  a  telegram 
from  the  central  office,  to  get  surgeons  and  aid 
for  the  wounded,  was  also  hastening  to  the  spot 
— but  it  was  too  late. 

The  work  was  done.  It  was  impossible  for 
them  now  to  rescue  the  living.  Those  who  had 
reached  the  scene  had  already  rescued  nearly  all 
the  wounded  and  the  living,  though  fearfully 
bruised,  and  some  of  them  insensible,  from  the 
fire. 

Others  were  standing  and  looking  on  from  the 
banks,  idle  spectators  of  the  scene.  And,  before 
the  eyes  of  all,  the  fire  had  crept  on  and  on,  and 
was  now  enveloping  the  whole.  The  wounded 
lay  in  the  snow,  or  on  the  damp,  cold  floor. 
The  water  dripped  from  their  garments  and  ran 
upon  the  stone.    Blood  flowed  from  wounds  and 


48  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


mingled  with  the  water.  Chill  and  damp  and 
pain  and  wounds  and  the  shock  and  fright  were 
combined.  Gashed  and  bruised  and  broken, 
they  were  crowding  up  that  lonely,  chilly  bank. 
But  the  flames  without  were  burning  and  eclips- 
ing all  their  misery.  Appalling  death  was  shoot- 
ing from  car  to  car,  and  the  dreadful  valley  had 
become  an  awful  scene.  It  was  too  terrible  for 
any  human  mind.  The  groans  of  the  wounded 
were  mingled  with  the  groans  of  the  dying, 
and  shouts  and  groans  and  shrieks  and  cries 
echoed  through  the  valley ;  then  the  plaintive  wail 
and  the  awful  silence. 


THE  FIRE  AND  THE  FIREMEN.  49 


CHAPTER  VII. 


€ 


THE  FIEE  AND  THE  FIREMEN. 

'HE  firemen  arrived  at  last;  the  station 
agent  had  reached  the  spot  before  them.  All 
was  haste  and  confusion.  ITo  orders,  and  no  one 
in  command.  The  wounded  were  already  com- 
ing up  the  bank.  Citizens,  as  they  came,  had 
taken  the  survivors  from  the  wreck,  and  were  now 
helping  them  to  a  place  of  safety  and  comfort. 

Appalled  by  the  scene  and  confused  by  the  hor- 
ror, none  knew  what  order  was  to  be  given  or 
who  was  in  command. 

Mr.  Apthorp  was  in  the  employ  of  the  road, 
and  was  supposed  to  have  some  control.  As  Mr. 
Strong  hastened  to  the  rescue,  he  asked,  "  What 
shall  we  do  ?"  The  reply  was,  "  Get  men  to  help 
up  the  wounded." 

As  the  chief  fireman  met  Mr.  Strong,  he  asked 
"  Where  shall  we  put  the  hose  ?  "  "  Where  shall 


60  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


we  apply  the  water  ?"  The  echo  of  Mr.  Ap- 
thorp's  remark  was  the  only  response — "  We 
want  to  get  out  the  wounded,  never  mind  the 
water."  A  second  time  the  question  was 
asked,  as  the  station  agent  appeared  in  another 
place,  and  a  second  time  the  response  was,  "  We 
don't  want  water, we  want  to  get  out  the  wounded." 
"Get  all  the  men  to  clear  a  road  to  the  wreck." 

Again,  as  the  firemen  undertook  to  lay  the 
hose,  another  official  of  the  road  used  a  vul- 
gar illustration  and  saying  there  was  no  use  in 
throwing  water  on  the  flames.  The  impression 
was  thus  given,  by  those  in  comriland  of  the 
wreck  and  the  road,  that  water  was  not  wanted. 
The  chief  fireman  was  not  a  man  to  assume  the 
responsibility  under  such  circumstances:  he  was 
dazed  and,  confused  and  did  not  seem  to  know 
what  to  do.  The  horses  stood  hitched  to  the 
steamer.  The  hand  engine  "  Protection,''  also 
stood,  with  the  men  waiting  for  orders.  Some 
one  ran  up  from  the  wreck  begging,  for  God's 
sake,  that  water  should  be  thrown,  but  both  en- 
gines stood  waiting. 

The  call  for  buckets,  went  up  from  below.  One 


THE  FIRE  AND  THE  FIREMEN.  51 


old  man,  seventy-six  years  old,  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  wreck,  chopping  for  dear  life  and  calling 
for  buckets  at  the  same  time.  His  son,  arriving 
late,  plunged  into  the  midst  of  the  fire  and  be- 
gan to  work  like  one  made  desperate  with  de- 
spair. Others  took  pails  and  undertook  to  go 
out  to  rescue  bodies  that  were  burning. 

The  driver  of  the  steamer  took  the  engine  to 
the  cistern  and  stationed  it  there,  but  no  orders 
were  given;  and  the  hose  carts  were  ready  to  be 
unreeled,  but  no  orders  were  given.  The  whis- 
tle of  the  steamer  was  sounded  for  hose  and  the 
men  stood  ready  to  lay  it;  many  wondered  at 
the  delay  and  talked  excitedly,  but  still  no  orders. 

The  captain  of  the  steamer  asked  the  station 
agent  if  he  should  apply  water,  but  the  same 
answer  was  returned.  The  chief  fireman  still 
remained  stupid  and  passive,  and  gave  no  orders. 
At  last  he  went,  himself,  to  the  wreck  and  began 
to  help  remove  th,e  wounded,  while  the  men  still 
waited  and  the  engines  were  idle.  The  men 
became  impatient,  but  they  were  held  by  the 
authority  of  their  chief.  The  fire  was  still  burn- 
ing, but  that  answer  of  the  station  agent  held  the 


63  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


chief  fireman  and  he  yielded  to  the  direction  and 
abandoned  the  engines  and  his  men. 

A  man  who  has  seen  two  persons  dtill  living, 
underneath  the  wreck,  comes  up  and  begs  that 
water  be  thrown,  but  the  engines  stand  idle,  and 
the  firemen  dare  not  work  without  orders.  The 
more  determined  of  them  leave  the  engines  and 
go  down  to  the  wreck  to  work  without  them. 
Pails  are  procured  from  the  stores,  and  with 
them  the  firemen  work.  Great  exertions  are 
made  to  extinguish  the  flames  in  this  way.  Des- 
peration has  taken  possession  of  the  citizens. 

An  hour  has  passed,  and  it  is  stated  that  there 
are  some  still  living,  but  the  engines  stand  idle. 
There  is  talk,  even,  of  disobeying  orders  and  as- 
suming command,  but  the  law  is  quoted  and  that 
is  prevented.  Men  fly  here  and  there,  anxious 
to  save  the  living;  others  assist  the  wounded. 
Some  stand  on  the  banks,  with  hands  in  their 
pockets,  and  look  on  unmoved,  but  the  fire  still 
burns.  A  few  seize  a  rope  and  fasten  it  to  the 
locomotive,  and  try  to  lift  it  off  from  one  poor 
wretch  who  lies  beneath  it,  but  the  time  passes 
and  the  flames  are  not  subdued.    A  hne  is  begun 


THE  FIRE  AND  THE  FIREMEN.  53 


for  the  purpose  of  passing  water,  and  so  putting 
the  fire  out,  but  a  voice  was  heard  from  the  top 
of  the  abutment,  saying:  ''  You  don't  want  wa- 
ter there."  "Don't  put  any  water  on  the 
wreck."  A  few  rushed  for  the  hand  engine, 
thinking  to  take  it  down  the  steep  bank  to  the 
creek;  the  arrangements  are  made  and  a  hose  is 
attached,  but  the  decision  of  the  foreman  is,  not 
to  take  it  down.  Still,  a  few  persevere  with  their 
buckets;  the  flames  in  one  place  are  put  out  by 
this  means,  but  no  eifort  is  made  by  the  engines, 
and  the  men  stand  waiting. 

Horses  become  restive;  the  captain  of  the 
steamer  remains  at  his  post;  the  firemen  await 
his  command,  but  the  order  is  never  sent.  Lives 
cannot  now  be  saved,  and  the  bodies  are  burning. 
A  woman  is  seen  in  the  midst  of  the  wreck;  life 
is  extinct,  but  the  body  is  held  by  the  iron  frame- 
work, high  in  air.  Her  clothes  caught  fire,  and 
she  begins  to  burn  like  a  martyr  at  the  stake. 
The  spectators  are  horror-stricken  by  the  sight. 
A  few  form  a  line  and,  with  buckets,  throw  wa- 
ter in  that  direction,  until  the  body  falls  and  lies 
buried  with  others.     The  fire  at  the  engine  is 


64  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


next  attacked,  after  the  fireman  is  rescued.  The 
poor  dog,  which  has  kept  up  his  piteous  howl,  was 
also  taken  from  the  same  place.  This  is  the  last 
living  creature  taken  out,  but  the  bodies  still 
burn.  The  wind  blows  cold,  but  the  fire  burns 
on. 

The  strangest  misunderstanding  has  taken 
possession  of  all.  Whatsoever  the  motive  of 
those  in  authority,  the  effect  was,  to  keep  the 
engines  from  playing  upon  the  flames.  There 
were  tanks  on  both  sides  of  the  track;  the  engines 
were  both  on  the  ground;  there  was  hose  suffi- 
cient, but  the  misunderstanding  made  everything 
useless,  and  the  department  was  held  back  and 
did  nothing.  The  indignation  of  the  citizens 
was  openly  expressed,  but  the  fire  continued.  Mr. 
Stebbins,  a  citizen,  asked  the  captain  of  the 
steamer,  why  water  was  not  thrown  ?  and  was 
answered,  that  the  chief  would  not  order  it.  He 
exclaimed,  "We  had  better  hang  him,  then,"  but 
the  fire  continued  to  burn  until,  in  places,  it 
burned  itself  out,  and  there  was  nothing  more  to 
feed  upon ;  nothing  was  left  except  the  bodies, 
and  these  were  almost  consumed.     The  fumes  of 


THE  FIRE  AND  THE  FIREMEN.  55 


the  burning  flesh  filled  the  air,  and  the  horrid 
consciousness  haunted  the  hearts  of  the  spectators, 
but  the  fire  burned  on,  and  the  strange  suspense 
held  the  people. 


56  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTEK  YIII. 


CABE   OF   THE   SURVIVOES.  > 

N  engine  house  stood  on  the  bank.  It  was 
the  place  where  water  was  pumped  from 
the  river  to  the  tank,  at  the  depot  buildings.  It 
was  a  little  brick  building  with  a  stone  floor  and 
a  large  boiler  and  engine  occupying  the  middle 
of  the  room.  Into  this  building,  the  wounded 
were  taken,  and  were  laid  on  the  cold,  damp 
floor, — a  ghastly  throng.  As  citizens  came,  they 
found  them  there,  suflfering  from  the  cold  as  well 
as  from  the  shock  and  wounds.  The  eflfort  was 
made  to  take  them  to  places  of  more  comfort,  but 
where  to  take  them  was  the  question.  No  one  was 
there  at  the  time  to  command.  A  few  men  were 
there  to  assist;  some  were  there  to  plunder,  and 
more  had  come  not  knowing  for  what  they  came. 
A  long,  weary  flight  of  steps  led  from  the  gorge 
to  the  track  above.    Up  this  flight  the  wounded 


CARE  OF  THE  SURVIVORS.  67 


were  taken;  On  the  other  side  the  access  to  the 
wreck  was  only  through  the  deep  snow  and  down 
the  steep  bank.  A  line  of  men  was  formed  at 
last.  Up  both  sides  of  the  track  the  wounded 
are  helped,  passed  from  hand  to  hand  where  they 
are  able  to  stand.  Others  were  borne  by  the 
citizens,  and  so  by  degrees,  with  pains  and 
groans  and  amid  the  wild  excitement,  the  most 
of  them  were  removed. 

The  nearest  house  to  the  scene  was  a  place 
called  the  "  Eagle  Hotel,"  kept  by  Patrick  Mul- 
ligan. Into  this,  by  some  chance,  eleven  of  the 
wounded  were  carried.  It  was  a  horrid  place. 
A  dirty  bar-room.  Rooms  which  had  never 
known  a  carpet,  but  whose  floors  were  soon  cov- 
ered with  snow  and  water;  little  bed-rooms  just 
large  enough  to  hold  a  bed  and  wash-stand, 
without  carpets  or  stove;  beds  that  consisted  of 
filthy  sheets  and  miserable  straw  ticks.  It  was 
a  house  forbidding  in  every  respect.  Into  this 
place  the  wounded  were  taken,  bleeding  and 
gashed,  and  laid  two  by  two  on  the  miserable 
pallets.  There  they  lay  in  the  clothes  which 
they  had  on,  covered  with  blood,  cold  and  cheer- 


58  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


less,  while  crowds  of  curious  spectators  trooped 
in  and  out  through  the  weary  hours  of  the  long 
and  dreadful  night. 

Others  fortunately  were  taken  to  better  quar- 
ters, but  even  some  of  these  were  robbed  on  the 
way  of  the  money  which  they  had  in  their  pockets 
by  the  very  persons  who  pretended  to  assist  them 
in  their  helpless  state. 

Teams  were  secured.  A  road  was  broken. 
Into  the  gorge  sleds  are  with  difficulty  taken 
down,  and  into  these  the  badly  wounded  are 
placed.  The  two  little  children  who  had  es- 
caped are  also  taken  in  these,  badly  burned  and 
insensible,  and  placed  with  their  father  in  a 
private  house.  The  mother  is  moved,  and  laid 
in  another  house,  and  lies  in  great  agony.  A 
young  girl;  timid  and  frightened,  whose  limbs  are 
broken,  is  separated  from  her  aunt,  and  placed 
among  strangers.  Amid  great  confusion  those 
who  are  able,  walk  to  the  hotel,  some  of  them 
pursued  by  those  who  would  rob  them.  A 
father  calls  out  from  a  stretcher  for  a  daughter 
whom  strangers  are  taking  in  another  direction, 
and   becomes    almost    frantic    with    excitement 


CARE  OF  THE  SURVIVORS.  59 


nntil  the  girl  is  brought  back  to  him.  The  poor 
burned  woman  whose  children  are  dead  is  borne 
to  the  "  Culver  House." 

The  bruised,  gashed  and  bleeding  pas- 
sengers are  at  last  removed  from  the  valley. 
They  are  distributed  through  the  neighborhood. 
Upon  couches  and  beds  of  the  few  hotels ;  upon  the 
counters  of  stores ;  on  the  floors  of  private  houses ; 
and  even  in  the  saloons-;- they  are  scattered  until 
the  whole  vicinity  becomes  a  hospital.  The  sur- 
geons are  all  at  work.  The  wounds  are  hastily 
dressed.  The  blood  is  washed  away.  Many  are 
wrapped  in  warm  coverings.  Comparative  quiet 
and  rest  settle  down.  The  spectators  have  left 
the  smoking  rums,  and  in  curious  crowds  have 
trooped  through  the  houses  and  have  gradually 
disappeared.  Those  on  the  abutment  returned 
to  their  homes.  The  firemen  themselves  dis- 
perse. The  last  one  in  the  engine  house  has 
gone.  Only  a  very  few  are  left  to  guard  the 
dead. 

A  wild  and  lonely  scene  remains.  The  dead 
are  left  there  alone.  The  snow  drifts  toward  the 
smoking  ruins.     !N^ature  weaves  a  white  shroud. 


THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


IS'ight  draws  down  a  black  pall.  The  silence  of 
the  grave  bettles  upon  the  lonely  spot.  A  flicker- 
ing light  from  the  funeral  pyre  sends  up  a  glare 
through  the  darkness,  and  the  dead  stare  from 
the  blackened  bars  with  eyeless  sockets,  and  the 
bodies  are  left  to  burn. 

It  is  a  horrible,  heart-sickening  sight,  the 
bodies  still  smoulder  in  the  burning  grave,  and 
the  smell  of  their  flesh  arises  on  the  darkening  air. 


THE  ROBBERS,  61 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE   ROBBERS. 

'HE  fire  continued  to  burn.  For  a  time  the 
wreck  was  left  unguarded. 
When  it  was,  that  so  much  plundering  occurred 
no  one  knows.  The  flames  were  lifting  up  their 
lurid  light,  and  covering  the  ghastly  scene  with  a 
sickening  glare.  The  dead  laj  in  every  direction 
amid  the  driving  snow.  A  skull  lay  by  itself 
amid  a  blackened  heap,  whitened  by  the  fire. 
The  heap  of  bodies  lying  in  the  sleeping-coaches 
were  still  burning,  and  yet  this  appalling  scene 
did  not  intimidate  the  human  vultures  who  were 
looking  for  their  prey.  The  ravening  wolf  that 
prowls  at  night  would  be  driven  from  such  a 
horrid  place  by  very  fear.  The  hearts  of  men 
were  on  that  fearful  night  more  greedy  than 
wolves  or  vultures  are,  for  amid  that  awful  wreck 
they  sought  for  spoil.    One  and  another  of  the 


62  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


wounded  had  been  robbed.  Men  were  more 
merciless  to  their  fellows  than  the  cruel  flames. 

One  youn^  man,  who  had  lost  both  mother 
and  sister,  was  suffering  from  four  broken  ribs 
and  a  severe  gash  in  the  head.  As  he  looked  up 
and  saw  the  men  standing  and  watching,  the 
thought  of  robbers  crossed  his  mind.  He  had  a 
valuable  watch,  a  present  from  his  father, 
and  two  purses,  one  containing  fifty  dollars 
in  bills,  and  the  other  a  few  dollars  in  change  and 
his  mother's  jewelry.  As  the  thought  of  thieves 
came  up,  he  turned  around  with  his  back  to  the 
crowd  and  dropped  his  watch  down  his  neck  in- 
side his  shirt,  and  there  left  it  suspended  by  the 
chain  next  to  his  person.  One  purse  he  placed 
inside  his  vest  and  in  an  inside  pocket,  and  the 
other  was  left  in  the  pocket  of  his  pantaloons. 

Some  one  offered  to  assist  him  up  the  stairs. 
As  he  reached  the  top  this  person  disappeared 
and  another  came.  Taking  him  by  the  arm, 
the  robber  drew  it  out  in  such  a  way  that 
the  broken  ribs  gave  intense  pain  and  caused 
the  poor  boy  to  faint  and  fall.  As  he  fell,  he 
remembers  to  have  felt  a  hand  reached   into  his 


THE  ROBBERS.  68 

bosom,  and  then  lie  became  unconscious,  and  lay 
upon  the  snow.  When  he  came  to  himself,  his 
purses  and  his  ticket  to  California  were  gone,  and 
all  he  had  left  was  the  watch  he  had  hidden  and 
the  clothes  he  wore.  Among  strangers,  with 
mother  and  sister  both  dead,  the  poor  young  man 
was  at  last  taken  to  a  hotel  and  telegraphed  the 
sad  news  to  his  father  in  the  distant  home. 
Another  gentleman,  as  he  was  being  helped  to  a 
hotel,  was  robbed  of  all  that  he  had  in  his  vest 
pocket,  on  the  side  towards  the  one  who  supported 
him.  Still  another  was  followed  by  a  person  who 
pretended  to  be  a  physician  and  offered  to  assist, 
but  escaped  by  threats  and  such  speed  as  he 
could  command. 

Much  valuable  property  was  removed  from 
the  bodies  of  the  dead.  One  gentleman  had 
upon  his  person  a  valuable  diamond  pin,  a  com- 
mander's badge,  a  Sir  Knight's  pin  and  other 
valuable  jewelry,  but  when  his  body  was  found, 
nothing  was  left  except  a  cheap  pair  of  celluloid 
sleeve  buttons. 

Watches  were  removed  from  chains,  and  the 
jewelry  in  trunks  was  taken  or  mysteriously  dis- 


64  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


appeared.  More  than  $1,500  wortli  of  valuable 
articles  were  afterwards  recovered  by  the  Major 
by  a  proclamation,  and  by  detectives.  A  saloon 
keeper  was  found  to  have  appropriated  shawls 
and  satchels,  and  others  were  found  to  have 
diamonds  and  jewelry  in  their  possession  which 
had  been  stolen. 

A  young  man  who  had  a  splinter  from  the 
cornice  of  the  car  driven  through  his  collar  bone 
was  robbed  of  $300  in  money  at  the  Eagle 
Hotel  where  he  lay,  and  a  gentleman  from  Hart- 
ford had,  his  boots  taken  from  his  feet  and  carried 
away. 

The  dead  in  the  valley  and  the  wounded  in  the 
streets,  and  the  survivors  in  other  places  were 
alike  subject  to  this  villainous  pillaging.  A  pair 
of  dominos,  or  black  masks,  were  found,  show- 
ing how  deliberate  had  been  the  robbery  with  the 
villains  who  were  out  that  night. 

Scarcely  anything  of  value  was  left  after  the 
wreck.  One  gentleman  who  had  $7,000  on  his 
person  was  killed  and  his  pocket  book  found,  but 
the  money  was  gone.  Trunks  containing  the 
wardrobes   of   brides,   and   the  jewelry  of   the 


THE  ROBBERS.  65 


wealthy,  were  burned  and  destroyed.  Watches 
were  burned  in  the  fierce  flames  until  the  gold 
was  melted  into  nuggets,  and  everything  that 
could  be  treasured  by  friends,  whether  it  was  the 
clothes  of  the  dead  or  the  precious  keepsakes  they 
had,  or  the  bodies  which  were  more  precious 
than  jewels,  all  disappeared  and  not  a  relic  or 
trace  could  be  found. 


66  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  X. 


MIDNIGHT   AT   THE    WKECK. 

T  twelve  o'clock  quietness  had  settled  down 
upon  the  scene.  The  streets  were  deserted. 
All  had  formed  the  impression  that  the  bodies 
were  to  be  burned,  and  had  gone  to  their  homes, 
leaving  the  wreck  still  burning,  and  the  dead  to 
be  consumed.  The  engines  had  been  ordered  to 
their  houses.  The  lights  glimmered  from  the 
homes  where  the  wounded  were  lying.  A  few 
Were  at  the  wreck.  The  expressman  guarding 
the  treasures  in  the  safe,  sat  solitary  and  alone 
through  the  long  hours,  while  the  flames  which 
were  burning  precious  bodies^  crackled  and 
^  threw  their  lurid  light  across  the  scene.  The 
smell  of  burning  flesh  pervaded  the  air  even 
half  a  mile  away.  A  horrid  sight  was  pre- 
sented in  the  awful  valley.  The  flames  which 
had  blazed  so  high  had  consumed  the  wood  and 


J^IDNIGHT  A  T  THE   WRECK.  67 


furniture  of  the  train.  The  gilded  palaces  were 
reduced  to  mere  skeletons  of  iron.  The  bridge 
lay  a  mere  network  of  blackened  beams.  The 
trucks  and  wheels  and  heavy  rods  were  lying  in 
every  direction.  But  beneath  these  horrid  ribs 
of  death,  lay  the  blackened  bodies  of  men, 
women  and  children,  burned,  and  still  burning, 
amid  the  snow  and  ice.  Blue  tongues  of  fire 
shot  here  and  there  amid  the  blackened  mass,  as 
if  some  unseen  monster  were  still  licking  up  the 
life  of  its  unburied  victims.  The  white  snow  lay 
like  a  winding  sheet  along  the  valley,  but  the 
skeleton  was  in  the  midst  with  the  tall  abutments 
towering  above  and  the  precious  bodies  silent  in 
death  beneath  the  ruins. 

A  long  line  of  bodies  lay  packed  on  the  bridge 
just  above  the  water  of  the  stream.  They  were 
covered  with  trucks  and  brakes,  and  heavy  bars, 
and  the  debris  of  wood  and  the  ash(js  of  the 
wreck.  Packed  in  a  horrid  mass  they  lay, 
crushed  and  broken,  and  blackened  by  the  smoke 
and  heat.  Ghastly  forms  lay  in  this  open  grave. 
Headless,  armless  trunks  were  packed  with  the 
broken  Kmbs,   and  the  heads  from  which  the 


68  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


brains  were  oozing,  while  the  stumps  of  arms 
seemed  hfted  from  the  blackened  heaps  as  if  in 
mute  supplication — too  shocking  for  any  human 
heart.  The  delicate  form  of  a  mother  lay  beside 
her  little  child,  but  both  reduced  to  mere  black 
lumps  with  scarcely  a  semblance  to  a  human 
form.  A  full  sized  woman  lay  amid  the  mass 
but  with  no  sign  of  either  legs  or  arms  except 
the  broken  bones  which  had  been  crushed  away 
by  the  fall.  Bodies  of  men  also  lay  cut  com- 
pletely asunder,  and  jjresenting  only  the  half  of 
the  human  form — an  awful,  sickening  sight. 

Everywhere  through  the  valley  there  were 
bodies  lying  silent  in  death.  The  pale  flames 
which  flickered  here  and  there,  betokened  where 
many  of  them  lay.  Underneath  the  horrid  bars 
of  iron,  on  the  black,  deceitful  ice,  in  the  watery 
depths  of  the  unconscious  stream,  packed  in 
heaps  underneath  the  burning  cars — were  the 
dead  !  It  was  an  appalling  and  terrifying  scene. 
The  darkness  and  loneliness,  and  the  very  deser- 
tion, were  enough,  but  through  the  very  nerves 
there  came  the  horrid  consciousness  of  the  many, 
many  dead. 


MIDNIGHT  A  T  THE  WRECK.  69 


Far  away  were  their  friends,  the  night  was 
lonely,  and  the  storm  was  pitiful,  but  scattered 
through  that  grave  were  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 
It  was  hard  to  realize  it.  but,  to  the  hearts  of 
friends,  these  unburied  were  no  strangers,  and 
yet  they  burned,  in  loneliness. 

The  railroad  authorities  came  at  half  past  one 
o'clock.  Five  surgeons  from  the  Homoeopathic 
College,  in  Cleveland,  the  superintendent,  the 
assistant  superintendent,  the  train-despatcher 
and  others.  The  wounded  were  in  their  beds  at 
the  time.  The  fireman  was  at  the  Eagle  Hotel. 
The  engineer  was  at  Mr.  Apthorp's,  two  other 
persons,  also,  "who  needed  surgical  operations, 
were  at  the  same  house.  The  surgeons  of  the 
road,  as  they  arrived,  sought  first  the  employees 
— the  fireman  and  the  engineer — and  to  these, 
gave  their  professional  attention.  The  surgeons 
of  the  village  had  already  attended  to  the  passen- 
gers, had  dressed  the  wounds  of  most  of  them, 
and  were  waiting  for  the  proper  reaction,  to  per- 
form the  amputation  on  those  whose  limbs  were 
broken. 

Ten  surgeons  were,  at  one  time,  crowded  into 


70  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


one  small  house, '  where  the  worst  cases  were 
placed.  By  morning,  however,  the  amputation 
was  performed  by  Dr.  J.  0.  Hubbard,  as- 
sisted by  Drs.  Fricker  and:  Case,  and  about 
twenty  of  the  wounded,  including  the  fireman 
and  engineer,  were  removed  to  the  hospital  in 
Cleveland.  This  relieved  many  of  those  who 
were  at  the  Eagle  Hotel,  as  they  found  comforta- 
ble quarters  at  the  hospital,  and  the  rest  were 
taken  into  rooms  where  a  fire  could  be  built,  and 
where  a  carpet  covered  the  floor;  but  through  all 
tte  night  the  fire  continued  to  burn.  The  hag- 
gard dawn  drove  the  darkness  out  of  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death.  Seldom  was  revealed  a 
ghastlier  sight.  On  either  side  of  the  ravine, 
frowned  the  dark  and  bare  arches  from  which 
the  treacherous  bridge  had  fallen,  while,  at  their 
base,  the  great  mass  of  ruins  covered  the  men 
and  women  and  children,  who  had  so  suddenly 
been  called  to  death.  The  cherished  bodies  lay 
where  they  had  fallen,  or  where  they  had  been 
placed,  in  the  hurry  and  confusion  of  the  night. 
Piles  of  iron  lay  on  the  thick  ice  or  bedded  in 
the  shallow  stream.  The  fires  smouldered  in  great 


MIDNIGHT  A  T  THE  WRECK.  71 


heaps  where  many  of  the  helpless  victims  had 
been  consumed;  while  men  went  about,  in  wild 
confusion,  seeking  some  trace  of  their  friends 
among  the  wounded  or  dead. 


73  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THE  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT. 

'HE  morning  dawned.  Those  who  had 
known  of  the  event,  awoke  as  if  from  a 
fearful  dream.  The  horror  of  the  great  calamity 
haunted  the  sleeping  hours,  and  came  back  with 
returning  consciousness.  The  dream  was,  indeed, 
a  sad  reality.  The  bodies,  which  were  wrapped 
in  the  sleep  of  death  and  whose  bed  was  the 
driven  snow,  were  the  first  thought  at  the  awak- 
ening of  the  living;  nothing  else  was  thought  of 
in  the  village.  Those  who  had  not  heard  of  it 
were  startled  by  the  news,  but  those  who  had 
seen  and  known,  were  strangely  impressed.  The 
smell  of  the  burning  flesh  seemed  to  pervade  the 
air.  The  sight  of  dead  bodies  seemed  to  fill  the 
eye.  The  flames  —  the  fearful  flames  —  the 
ghastly  wounds,  the  blackened  bodies  and  the  un- 
known, unburied  dead  were  before  the  mind. 


THE  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT.  73 


Death  had  descended  like  a  bird  of  night,  and 
flapped  a  dark  wing  over  the  abodes  of  the  Hv- 
ing,  casting  a  shadow  over  the  whole  place,  and 
then  descended  into  the  valley  and  was  still 
watching  its  victims.  There  was  something  fear- 
ful in  such  an  awful  devastation  by  the  dread 
monster. 

But  with  this  sense  of  the  nearness  of  death, 
came  another  still  more  fearful  to  the  mind. 
There  was  mingled  with  the  thoughts  of  the 
dead,  another  of  the  living,  which  was  even  more 
horrible  to  the  mind.  A  great  shadow  hovered 
over  the  place.  It  was  not  the  shadow  of  the 
angel,  which  had  descended,  with  its  dark  wings; 
it  was  not  the  unseen  messenger  of  God ;  it  was 
not  of  the  horror  that  walked  in  darkness,  or  the 
destruction  that  wasted  at  noon  of  nisrht,  but  a 
horrible  suspicion  had  seized  the  people;  the  hor- 
rid selfishness  of  men  haunted  the  waking  thoughts 
as  terrible  death  had  the  sleep  of  night.  Cru- 
elty was  ascribed  to  men,  worse,  even,  than  the 
awful  fell  and  death. 

That  burning  of  the  bodies  was  ascribed  to  de- 
sign.    The  impression  was  a  general  one.     In- 


74  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


dignation  was  mingled  with  horror;  that  retir- 
ing to  homes,  while  the  bodies  burned,  was  not 
the  result  of  indifference.  Few  were  so  heart- 
less as  to  care  more  for  sleep  than  for  the  safety 
of  the  dead.  Many  could  not  sleep  that  night, 
but,  somehow,  the  impression  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  people  that  the  burning  was  designed. 
As  the  citizens  returned  to  their  homes  late  at 
night,  they  had  talked  their  suspicion,  and  grown 
sick  at  heart.  The  firemen  themselves  had  laid 
the  blame  somewhere  else  than  upon  their  chief. 
It  seemed  too  inhuman,  and  yet  it  was  believed. 
The  station  agent  was  known  and  trusted.  His 
character  was  well  established.  His  humane  and 
kindly  heart  was  not  impeached.  His  Christian 
life  and  courtesy  were  well  known  to  all.  But 
the  feeling  was  universal,  and  the  suspicion 
strong.  The  control  of  the  company  over  the 
cars,  and  all  the  contents,  was  taken  for  granted. 
The  responsibility  ofcommon  carriers  was  known, 
and  no  one  could  understand  why  orders 
should  be  given  to  withhold  the  water,  except  it 
was  to  destroy  the  traces  of  those  who  were  on 
the  train.    For  the  time  this  was  believed.     The 


THE  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT.  76 


sentiment  was  so  common  that  even  an  employee 
of  the  road  was  heard  to  say  that  "  ashes  did  not 
count,"  but  bodies  did. 

There  was  no  foundation  for  the  report.  It 
was  all  the  result  of  that  strange  mistake.  As 
was  afterwards  shown,  no  such  order  had  been 
given,  and  the  persons  in  command  were  not 
responsible  for  the  mistake;  but  for  the  time  it 
had  its  effect.  That  midnight  hour  showed  how 
strong  this  conviction  had  become.  The  deserted 
streets,  the  silent  engines,  the  stabled  horses — all 
betokened  a  thought  which  ruled  the  night.  A 
strange  misunderstanding  had  controlled  that 
fatal  hour,  yet  none  the  less  powerful  because 
so  strange.  As  men  met  in  the  morning,  this 
was  the  first  thought  which  they  expressed.  It 
was  the  main  subject  of  remark.  Many  supposed 
that  the  order  had  been  given  from  the  central 
office,  but  had  no  means  of  correcting  or  confirm- 
ing their  belief.  Others  maintained  that  there 
was  a  reason  for  the  order,  as  the  throwing  of 
water  upon  hot  iron  was  likely  to  create  steam, 
and  this,  it  was  said,  "would  destroy  more  lives 
than   even  the  flames,   and   would    deface  the 


76  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


bodies."  It  was  held  by  some  to  be  the  general 
policy  of  railroad  companies  to  allow  wrecks  to 
be  burned,  and  this  was  given  as  the  reason:  "that 
steam  would  be  generated  which  would  imme- 
diately cover  the  wreck,  and  drive  away  those 
who  would  rescue  the  living."  Gentlemen  of 
intelligence  and  caution  discussed  that  point  with 
earnest  warmth. 

Little  knots  of  men  would  gather  and  express 
their  pent-np  feelings.  Others  supposed  that 
this  popular  indignation  was  the  result  of  the 
terrible  pressure  and  that  weighed  on  the  spirits, 
as  if  indignation  were  the  safety  valve  for  the 
oppressed  heart. 

These  convictions  of  the  people  arose  above 
all  other  feelings.  The  better  sympathies  were 
awakened  and  rebuked  the  very  selfishness  which 
was  abhorred.  The  passions  which  were  excited 
were  to  the  praise  of  the  better  feelings  of  the 
heart.  The  kind  and  generous  emotions  were 
protesting  against  a  cruelty  which  was  imagined. 
It  was  not  supposed,  at  the  time,  that  the  same 
humane  feelings  existed  in  the  hearts  of  those  in 
command.     It  was  a  "soulless  corporation,"  it 


THE  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT.  77 


was  said,  and  men  did  not  stop  to  reason.  A 
horrible  thing  had  occurred.  A  fatal  mistake! 
The  awful  negligence  and  the  fearful  burning 
were  combined.  Somebody  was  responsible! 
The  citizens  felt  that  it  could  not  be  themselves, 
and  yet  the  corporation  remained  unconscious  of 
the  charge.  For  several  days  the  popular  feeling 
continued.  It  was  even  reflected  back  in  the 
reports  of  the  press.  As  the  friends  arrived  they 
partook  of  the  feeling,  and  swelled  its  force.  The 
sentiment  came  back  from  distant  places,  and  the 
little  village  was  intensely  moved. 

It  was  because  the  heart  of  a  great  nation  was 
moved,  and  the  shock  which  appalled  and  para- 
lyzed the  whole  land,  sent  back  its  chilling  horror 
to  the  very  centre.  Far  and  wide  over  the  long 
wires  the  startling  message  had  made  its  way. 
Families  on  the  distant  hill  tops  of  the  New  Eng- 
land States;  men  in  the  green  valleys  of  the  Cali- 
fornia shores;  at  the  distant  south  and  in  the 
snowy  north;  in  the  great  city  and  in  the  little 
hamlet — the  fact  was  known.  Everywhere  the 
shock  was  felt.  Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  the 
startling  head  lines.    Every  heart  was  moved  as 


78  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


the  news  was  read.  All  other  things  were  forgot- 
ten in  the  great  horror.  The  greatest  railroad  dis- 
aster on  record  had  taken  place.  The  Brooklyn 
horror  was  eclipsed  bj  a  greater.  Angola  was  sur- 
passed. Norwalk  and  the  many  other  catastro- 
phies  were  all  forgotten.  Ashtabula  was  known, 
and  became  the  synonym,  for  the  event.  But 
mingled  with  this  starthng  news  was  the  silent 
question  which  the  citizens  were  discussing  on 
that  gloomy  morning — "  Why  was  not  the  fire 
put  out?  "  •  Nor  did  the  feeling  cease,  or  the  sur- 
prise and  sad  suspicion  die  away  for  many  a  day. 
As  the  tidings  reached  the  neighboring  coun- 
ties, vast  numbers  began  at  once  to  flock  in. 
Trains  arrived  by  other  roads.  Each  train 
came  laden  with  passengers.  The  streets  were 
filled  with  people.  All  were  excited.  Sooner, 
even,  than  the  friends  of  the  lost  these  crowds 
reached  the  wreck.  The  friends  at  a  distance  were, 
however,  detained  as  it  was  not  the  purpose  to 
allow  them  to  come  to  witness  the  horrid  scene 
until  a  suitable  disposal  of  the  dead  was  made. 
The  police  stationed  on  the  ground  endeavored 
to  keep  back  the  curious  crowds,  but  in  many 


THE  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT.  79 


cases  found  it  impossible.  It  was  not  known 
whether  the  control  was  in  the  hands  of  the  rail- 
road company,  or  of  the  village  authorities.  They 
were  mostly  railroad  men  who  were  superintend- 
ing the  work.  The  excitement  of  the  citizens 
was  not  diminished,  as  it  beemed  so  doubtful  who 
were  in  control.  The  fact  that  the  Mayor  of  the 
city  was  in  the  employ  of  the  road  as  Assistant 
engineer  only  increased  this  feeling.  At  the 
time  of  the  accident  there  was  no  coroner  in  the 
place.  The  proper  officer  had  previously  de- 
clined. Another  had  to  be  appointed  in  his 
place.  Access  being  denied  to  the  spot,  and  the 
supposition  having  obtained  that  the  control  was 
in  the  hands  of  the  Company  rather  than  of  the 
village  corporation  the  suspicion  increased.  The 
very  efforts  of  the  authorities  to  protect  the  place 
and  keep  back  the  curious  strengther.ed  the  con- 
viction. A  strange  feeling  pervaded  thy  place  and 
was  spread  throughout  many  parts  of  the  country. 
It  was  the  element  which  most  excited  the  people 
and  which  called  attention  from  the  widespread 
pubhc. 

The  only  answer  is  that  the  calamity  was  too 


80  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


appalling  for  man's  reason,  and  those  in  com- 
mand seemed  to  have  lost  their  judgment  in  the 
excitement  of  the  hour  and  were  held-  by  the 
misunderstanding  which  so  unjustly  arose. 

There  was  no  evidence  that  this  burning  was 
intended.  It  is  not  reasonable  to  suppose  it. 
The  report  was  'entirely  untrue,  the  suspicion 
wrong,  but  in  the  excitement  of  the  hour,  it 
was  felt,  and  was  a  strange  feature  in  the  event. 


SCENES  A  T  THE  MORGUE.  81 


CHAPTER  XII. 


SCENES  AT   THE  MORGUE. 

T  eiglit  o'clock,  work  was  begun  upon  the 
wreck.  Guards  were  stationed  about  the 
spot.  Planks  were  placed  upon  the  ice.  Men 
were  employed  to  remove  the  debris  of  wood  and 
iron.  Boxes  were  procured,  in  which  to  place 
the  dead.  A  special  policeman  was  stationed  at 
the  head  of  the  stairway;  no  one  was  permitted 
to  go  on  the  ice,  except  the  workmen,  who 
were  engaged  in  removing  the  debris. 

The  mayor  of  the  city  was  on  the  ground;  the 
stationing  of  the  police  was  at  his  request,  but 
the  removal  of  bodies  and  the  preservation  of 
relics,  was  in  the  charge  of  an  oflBcial  of  the  road. 

The  superintendent  of  bridges  and  the  train- 
dispatcher,  as  listed  in  the  work.  Even  Mr.  Col- 
lins, himself,  the  chief  engineer,  was  there,  and 
worked  in  the  water,  and  forgot  himself,  in  the 


82  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 

sympathy  he  felt.  Throughout  the  day  the  work 
continued,  and  the  crowds  passed  to  and  fro. 

Men  were  employed  who,  in  long  rubber  boots 
and  water-proof  coats,  worked  all  day  long  in  the 
ice  and  snow;  it  was  a  difficult  and  tedious  task. 
The  wind  blew  cold,  the  water  was  deep,  the 
beams  were  heavy,  the  iron  was  netted  together, 
and  the  wreck  was  imbedded  in  the  stream. 
The  bodies  were  frozen,  they  were  packed  among 
the  debris,  and  buried  in  the  snow,  but  they  were, 
by  degrees,  removed. 

The  remains  of  men  and  women  and  children, 
were  taken  by  strangers'  hands,  and  placed  in  the 
rude  deposits  prepared  for  the  occasion.  This  was 
under  the  idle  gaze  of  many  a  spectator,  who  had 
gathered  there.  The  hands  of  friends  were  not 
there  to  lift  the  tender  forms,  many  of  these  were 
were  far  away.  Those  who  could  have  been  there, 
and  whose  every  nerve  and  fibre  cried  out  for 
their  loved  and  lost,  were  detained  by  the  trains 
in  the  distant  city.  It  was  difficult  for  even  the 
citizens  who  were  present,  to  realize  what  sacred- 
ness  there  was  to  these  precious  forms.  Death 
had  been  robbed  of  its  solemnity,   and  now  it 


SCENES  AT  THE  MORGUE.  83 


seemed  a  piece  of  business,  to  remove  the  bodies 
which  had  burned.  The  friends  had.  been  pur- 
posely kept  back,  that  the  revolting  spectacle 
might  be  kept  from  their  sight,  or  that  some  de- 
cent disposal  might  be  made  before  they  arrived. 
These  bruised  and  broken  and  blackened  things, 
did  not  seem  like  human  beings,  and  the  sorrow- 
ing hearts  alone  could  realize  how  sacred  and 
precious  they  were,  even  in  all  their  deformity. 
It  was  well  that  the  shock  was  spared  to  many, 
mitil  the  distance  could  be  traversed. 

Yet  it  was  an  awful,  shocking  sight,  when  the 
removal  had  been  accomplished.  It  was  a  horrid 
thing  to  take  these  bodies,  in  all  their  deformed 
and  distorted  shapes,  from  their  beds  of  ice  and 
snow  and  iron  and  ashes  and  the  coals  of  wood, 
but  it  was  still  more  horrid,  to  look  upon  them 
as  they  were  gathered  in  that  gloomy  morgue. 

The  freight  house  was  turned  into  the  place 
for  the  dead;  its  doors  were  closed,  and  the 
darkness  of  a  winter's  day  settled  down  in  that 
cheerless  place ;  it  was  cold,  and  bare  and  gloomy, 
a  fit  place  for  death. 

As  the  sleds  arrived  from  the  deep  gorge  be- 


84  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


low,  bringing  the  awful  human  freight,  this  large 
room  was  nearly  jSlled  with  the  ghastly  rows. 
Thirty-six  bodies  were  arranged,  in  boxes,  in  a 
double  line  along  the  sides;  a  few  had  been 
taken  out,  with  their  bodies  uninjured,  except  as 
they  had  died  from  the  breath  of  fire.  These 
were  placed  by  themselves  upon  the  floor,  and 
from  their  very  attidude,  showed  how  awful  had 
been  their  death.  They  were  mostly  men.  There 
they  lay,  with  limbs  distorted,  with  hands  uplifted, 
with  averted  faces,  and  with  all  the  agonized  and 
awful  shapes  which  death  by  fire  must  produce. 
One  had  endeavored  to  throw  his  coat  over  his 
face,  and  lay  with  arms  and  coat  above  his  head, 
caught  by  the  flames  and  transfixed  in  that  shape. 
Another  had  twisted  his  neck  and  face  away, 
until  the  head  rested  upon  the  shoulders  and 
back,  and  only  the  burned  hair  and  whiskers  could 
be  seen.  Another  lay  with  limbs  drawn  up  and 
body  doubled,  and  yet  his  graceful  shape  and 
form  could  be  read,  through  the  agony  of  death. 
Others  seemed  to  have  stood,  and  held  up  be- 
seeching arms  and  hands.  With  some,  even  the 
stumps  of  arms  were  outstretched,  as  if  in  mute 


SCENES  AT  THE  MORGUE.  85 


appeal.  A  few  were  drenched,  with  their  cloth- 
ing on,  but  partly  burned,  as  if  the  water  and 
the  fire  together  conspired  for  their  death.  These 
all  impressed  the  eye,  with  the  agony  of  death 
by  fire.  The  fear  of  such  a  fate,  was  that  which 
the  survivors  felt  the  most. 

The  agony,  depicted  in  these  few  distorted 
forms  and  faces,  showed  how  well  founded  was 
that  fear.  But,  fortunately,  there  were  but  few. 
Not  a  dozen  bodies  were  taken  out  that,  to  any 
human  appearance,  could  have  lived,  if  this  fire 
had  been  kept  down.  The  rest  were  broken  and 
bruised,  or  else  their  bodies  had  been  completely 
burned. 

A  more  afiecting  sight  was  that,  of  those  who 
ivere  placed  in  the  boxes,  broken  and  bruised,  as 
^hey  were,  in  every  limb.  The  boxes  could  not 
contain  them,  as  their  clothes  were  stiffened  by 
the  water  and  ice  and  snow.  Those,  too,  whose 
clothes  had  been  burned  away,  were  so  distorted 
in  limb  and  body  that  no  box  could  hold  their 
forms. 

Though  dead,  and  stiff  and  cold,  they  seemed 
as    if    they    would    start    from    their    graves, 


86  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


and  escape  the  fearful  fate,  which  had  seized  and 
destroyed  their  life. 

And  yet,  even  these  would  move  the  heart. 
They  were  those  whom  somebody  loved,  and, 
though  seen  in  their  distorted  shapes  and  in  that 
horrid  place,  were  dear  to  their  friends  and  grate- 
fully recognized.  Some  even  impressed  the  eye 
with  what  they  were  in  life.  Strong  men,  with 
enough  of  clothing  left,  or  with  their  form  and 
features  sufficiently  preserved,  to  show  their  gen- 
tle breeding  or  their  business  habits,  betokened, 
through  all  the  smoke  and  ruin,  what  they  were 
and  how  esteemed.  "Women,  too,  were  there, 
whose  clothes  were  sufficiently  preserved,  to 
show  what  taste  and  culture  they  may  have  pos- 
sessed, and  in  their  forms,  though  blackened 
and  burned,  retained  the  grace  and  beauty 
which  had  been  admired. 

A  little  child  was  there,  beautiful  in  death;  the 
delicate  little  foot  hid  beneath  the  closely  fitting 
shoe,  the  nicely  tapered  limbs,  the  graceful, 
lovely  form,  the  tasteful  dress,  the  hands  so  tiny 
and  so  touching  in  their  shape,  one  could  but  love 
the  little  thing.    ,  Even  the  stranger   wanted  to 


SCENES  AT  THE  MORGUE.  87 


take  that  sweet,  that  precious  child,  and  clasp  it 
to  the  heart;  but  no,  that  awful  gash,  that  cruel 
blow  had  stricken  all  the  beauty  from  the  lovely 
face.  If  now,  the  mother  would  kiss  her  darling 
child,  she  must  press  her  lip  upon  vacant  air, 
hoping  that,  as  she  pressed  that  loved  form  to 
her  aching  heart,  an  angel  spirit  might  catch  the 
fond  caress. 

There  were  other  more  revolting  scenes  than 
these,  but  let  the  veil  be  drawn.  The  deformity 
of  death  must  not  distress  the  living,  and  yet 
those  were  happy,  whose  loved  and  lost  had  been 
reduced  to  ashes,  in  that  fearful  burning,  rather 
than  that  they  should  thus  find  their  precious 
forms,  for  the  sight  would  shock  their  very  hearts, 
and  send  back  its  warm  afiection  to  a  chilled,  an 
appalled,  a  horror  stricken  soul.  No!  the  rem- 
nants of  those  deformed,  defaced  and  half  de- 
stroyed human  forms,  were  better  in  the  hands 
of  strangers  than  with  their  friends.  The  grim 
certainty  of  their  death,  but  the  uncertainty  as  to 
whom  the  life  belonged,  were  better  with  those 
who  had  less  of  the  yearning  for  possession,  than 
the  friends. 


THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER, 


Citizens  could  take  up  the  poor  remains,  wlien 
W  one  else  could  claim  them,  and  could  bury 
them  with  all  the  attention  and  kindness  which 
was  in  their  hearts,  but  no  sense  of  possession 
was  ever  theirs ;  therefore,  they  were  happy  who 
felt  and  knew  that  the  sacred  ashes  of  their 
loved  had  been  covered  by  the  beautiful  snow, 
and  the  valley  was  their  grave. 

The  stream  could  sound  their  requiem;  the 
lake  could  moan  its  lament,  and  every  wave 
might  be  supposed  to  carry  a  portion  of  their 
precious  forms  to  distant  shores;  but  God  alone 
could  gather  the  elements,  and  fashion  it  for  the 
future  love.  Nothing  but  the  sacred  urn  of  earth, 
which  contains  all  that  is  mortal  of  the  human 
race — nothing  but  this,  is  the  depository  of  those 
loved  forms  which  were  once  so  full  of  life;  but 
everything  in  nature  becomes  the  more  precious 
to  the  longing  heart.  Unseen  fingers  shall 
weave  their  garments  in  the  spring,  and  the 
songs  shall  burst  forth  from  those  forest  hills, 
but  the  better  land  contains  their  spirits,  and  to 
that,  the  living  must  go  to  claim  their  own. 


THE  RAILROAD  OFFICIALS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE   RAILROAD   OFFICIALS. 

^1 T  was  well  that  the  revolting  sights  of  that 
^il  dark,  that  horrid  morgue  were  denied  to 
many  of  the  friends.  Every  effort  was  taken  to 
relieve  the  pangs  of  sorrow  and  to  remove  the^ 
revolting  features  of  that  awful  scene.  Coffins 
were  soon  procured.  Each  body  was  placed  in 
Its  silent,  its  narrow  house.  The  keeper  of  the 
morgue  was  stationed  to  watch  the  sacred  forms. 
He  was  a  silent  man.  Tall  and  dark  and  gloomy, 
he  walked  amid  the  dead,  but  beneath  that  silent 
face  he  bore  a  kindly,  a  sympathetic  heart.  He 
seemed  himself  to  be  struck  with  the  grief  which 
went  so  deep  into  so  many  loving  souls.  His 
tones  were  tender,  his  ways  were  kind.  He 
walked  amid  the  dead  until  it  seemed  as  if  his 
habitation  must  be  the  grave,  but  it  was  only  to 
express  a  sympathy  for  the  bereft.     His  was  a 


90  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


gloomy, .  a  melancholy  task,  and  yet  it  was  a 
sacred  trust,  as  those  bodies  which  he  guarded 
80  well,  were  very  sacred  to  many  hearts. 

There  were  other  officials  who  were  appointed 
for  the  trying  emergency,  who  seemed  pecu- 
liarly adapted  for  their  work.  A  gentleman 
was  stationed  in  the  office  of  the  same  building, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  guard  the  relics  which 
should  be  found.  His  position  was  indeed  a 
difficult  one.  He  was  an  employee  of  the  road 
and  yet  had  been  appointed  by  the  coroner  to  fill 
this  place.  The  very  equivocal  attitude  in  which 
this  double  duty  put  him,  rendered  it  a  most 
unenviable  office.  The  list  of  articles  was  left 
with  him,  and  at  the  same  time,  the  articles 
themselves  as  they  were  found.  If  there  was 
obedience  to  the  claims  of  humanity  and  regard 
to  his  personal  feelings,  there  might  be  a  loss  to 
the  company.  If  there  was  a  regard  to  the 
financial  interest  of  the  company  and  a  desire  to 
shield  it  from  loss,  there  was  the  fearful  tempta- 
tion to  sacrifice  his  honor  and  break  his  trust. 
The  sympathy  and  courtesy  of  the  man  was 
certainly   manifest   to   all.       Even  the    articles 


THE  RAILROAD  OFFICIALS.  91 


which  had  been  recovered  by  the  Major's  procla- 
mation were  consigned  to  him,  and  everything 
belonging  to  the  lost  of  the  fatal  train.  The 
very  proof  that  persons  were  on  it,  depended  on 
the  trifling  things  which  were  under  his  care. 
A  key,  or  watch,  or  chain,  or  cap,  or  dress,  might 
be  an  evidence  in  law.  Thus  the  affection  of 
friends  who  sought  for  these  with  such  avidity 
and  unwearied  diligence,  appealed  to  his  humane 
and  kindly  heart,  and  yet  a  loss  to  the  Company 
might  ensue  from  every  discovery  made. 
The  freedom,  too,  with  which  these  relics  were 
reached,  by  the  constantly  changing  crowds, 
rendered  a  loss  by  dishonest  hands  a  probable 
result,  yet  it  was  impossible  to  refuse  access 
to  them,  without  being  misunderstood.  And 
so  the  position  was  surrounded  with  embarrass- 
ments, and  yet  the  testimony  was  universal  to 
his  courtesy  and  kindness  through  it  all,  and  the 
many  relics  which  were  found  by  friends,  showed 
how  faithfully  he  performed  his  task. 

On  the  ground  where  the  train  had  fallen  was 
another  official  of  the  road.  His  work  was  to 
superintend   those  who   were  gathering  relics. 


93  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


This  position  was  a  tedious,  a  difficult,  and 
in  many  respects  a  thankless  one.  With  hands, 
and  feet,  and  rakes,  and  hoes,  and  in  various 
ways,  the  precious  relics  were  lished  from  out 
the  stream.  Everything  was  preserved.  Bits 
of  rags,  and  pie;-es  of  jewelry;  shreds  of  clothing 
and  gold  watches ;  a  worthless  strap  or  a  diamond 
pin;  anything  and  everything  which  gave  trace 
of  the  passengers,  were  gathered  and  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Stager  and  then  deposited  in  the 
morgue.  With  all  the  suspicion  and  all  the 
rumors,  the  public  became  at  last  satisfied  that 
the  authorities  were  doing  all  they  could  to 
gather  relics  for  the  friends,  and  that  the  traces 
of  the  dead  were  not  intentionally  destroyed. 
They  were  all  railroad  men  who  were  engaged 
in  this  work.  These  tasks  were  performed  by 
humane  men,  under  the  shadow  of  the  public 
doubt  and  public  grief,  amid  which,  there  was 
excitement,  and  the  haste  of  business  and 
the  burden  of  care.  Yet  there  were  humane 
hearts  underneath  all  this  machinery  of  life. 
The  employees  of  the  road  were,  many  of  them, 
melted  to  tears.     Every  one  was  subdued  by  the 


THE  RAILROAD  OFFICIALS.  93 


sudden  death.  Even  the  hardness  produced  by 
their  public  life  was  softened  by  the  common 
sorrow.  The  tide  of  human  sympathy  burst 
through  even  the  most  rocky  hearts  and  over- 
flowed all  other  feelings. 

In  the  crowded  office  in  the  station  house,  the 
telegraph  was  constantly  at  work.  Its  click  and 
buzz  was  heard  as  it  talked  with  lightning  tongues, 
and  reported  the  wide-spread  grief,  and  responded 
with  short  and  comprehensive  words.  It  seemed 
as  if  all  the  nation  had  been  touched.  Those 
nerves  of  wire  penetrated  the  remotest  fibres  of 
the  nation's  heart,  and  they  seemed  to  be  sinking 
with  intensest  pain.  The  arrow  which  had  shot 
its  pang  into  so  many  hearts  had  left  the  bow- 
string whizzing  in  the  hand.  The  griefs  of 
many,  many  homes  were  expressed  by  those 
very  sounds.  Hour  after  hour  the  messages 
would  cou:e  and  go,  and  every  word  was  fraught 
with  intensest  feeling. 

The  division-superintendent  sat  at  the  table 
amid  the  representatives  of  the  press,  and  the 
friends  who  crowded  to  the  desk  without,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  silent  man  had  his  hand  upon 


94  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


the  heart-strings  of  the  land.  How  any  one 
could  endure  the  strain  of  such  a  place  and  not 
falter  at  his  task,  was  a  mystery  to  many.  Only 
those  who  are  accustomed  to  the  position  where 
so  many  human  lives  are  under  tiieir  constant 
care  could  bear  this  crushing  weight. 

The  noble  man  who  came  down  upon  the  train 
and  went  out  upon  the  bridge,  of  which,  as  engi- 
neer, he  had  the  charge,  is  said  to  have  wept  like 
a  child  as  he  saw  the  sight.  That  stern,  care- 
worn face  expressed  more  than  many  knew. 

As  the  questions  were  plied  so  thick  and  fast 
by  the  representatives  of  the  press,  and  were 
sent  home  by  those  who  knew  something  of  the 
facts,  the  same  courteous  reply  went  back.  No 
one  apprehended  the  responsibility  of  his  place 
more  than  he.  Ko  one  felt,  perhaps,  the  doubts 
and  suspicions  and  public  feeling  more.  ISTo  one 
realized  more  the  nature  of  the  calamity  in  all  its 
bearings,  and  yet  that  same  calm  and  courteous 
manner  remained.  He  was  calm  without,  but 
God  only  knew  what  he  felt  within.  Those  who 
knew  him  best  have  told  something  of  the  tender 
sensibilities  of  the  man.     On  New  Year's  morn- 


THE  RAILROAD  OFFICIALS,  95 


ing  he  was  with  his  wife  at  her  father's  home  on 
the  east  side  of  Ashtabula  River,  where  they  often 
were.  But  on  that  morning  as  lie  stepped  out 
doors  before  breakfast,  the  coachman  met  him 
and  wished  him  a  happy  New  Year.  He  re- 
turned the  greeting,  but  'as  he  sat  down  to 
breakfast,  his  feelings  were  deeply  moved.  The 
tears  came  into  his  eyes.  His  face  became  suf- 
fused and  he  seemed  overwhelmed.  At  last  the 
brave  man  gave  way  and  buried  his  head  in  his 
hands  and  sobbed,  and  then  he  controlled  himself 
and  said,  "  John  bid  me  a  happy  New  Year  this 
morning,  but  how  can  it  be  a  happy  New  Year 
to  me?" 


96  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 


THE   ARRIVAL    OF   FRIENDS. 

fll  HERE  was  a  succession  of  arrivals  of 
"^  '  ^  people :  each  day  brought  a  different  class ; 
first  the  -officials  of  the  road ;  next  the  crowds  of 
curious  men  and  women  from  the  village  and 
surrounding  country;  then  the  representatives  of 
the  press  from  the  distant  cities,  Chicago  and 
New  York;  then  the  long  swelling  wave  of  the 
Borrowing  friends.  From  farther  and  farther 
away  this  wave  swept  in.  At  last  the  two  sides 
of  the  continent  were  reached.  Two  oceans  had 
sent  their  echoes  to  moan  over  the  graves  of 
those  who  had  left  their  shores.  The  coast  of 
Maine  and  the  Golden  Gate  had  felt  the  shock. 
First  were  those  from  the  nearer  cities.  These 
had  either  bidden  good-bye  a  few  hours  before  or 
were  waiting  at  the  depot  for  the  arrival  of  their 
friends. 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  FRIENDS.  97 


New  Year's  day  was  nigh.  A  gentleman  was 
at  Cleveland  on  his  way  to  California.  His  wife 
was  on  her  way  to  meet  him.  Two  children 
were  with  her  on  this  train.  They  expected  to 
spend  Kew  Year's  together  in  that  city.  She  had 
telegraphed  that  she  was  coming.  He  was  at  the 
depot  awaiting  her  arrival.  The  train  was  late 
but  he  waited  there.  At  last  the  tidings  came 
and  he  took  the  train  with  the  officials  and 
arrived  in  the  night.  The  two  children  were 
dead  and  the  wife  was  awfully  burned.  She  was 
now  lingering  between  life  and  death.  The  Kew 
Year  would  find  her  dead  and  the  man  bereft 
of  wife  and  children. 

Another  had  been  waiting  for  a  wife  and  child. 
He  came  and  found  them  dead.  The  dread  real- 
ity was  worse  than  the  worst  of  fears.  But  the 
morning  came.  The  friends  at  Cleveland  has- 
tened to  the  cars  at  an  early  hour  thinking  to 
take  them  and  reach  the  spot  by  9  o'clock,  but  at 
the  hour  assigned  the  train  delayed.  Those  who 
were  warned  of  the  wreck  by  the  morning  papers 
also  went  to  the  depot,  but  they  could  not  go. 
"Women,  whose  husbands  were  on  the  fatal  train. 


98  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


were  there  and  became  anxious  to  start,  but  the 
train  delayed. 

The  fathers,  whose  sons  were  wounded,  became 
uneasy  at  the  delay.     Business  men,  who  knew 
that  their  partners  were  among  the  lost,  won- 
dered at  the  long  delay.  Mothers,  whose  little  chil- 
dren were  among  the  dead,  also  were  sick  at  heart; 
but  the  train  delayed.     The  suspense  became  too 
much  to  bear;  the  train  delayed.     The  agony  in- 
creased; some   fainted  in  their  seats,  and  were 
taken  to  the  air;  the  feeling  became  intense;  that 
busy  depot  became  a  house  of  weeping;  sorrow 
was  depicted  on  every  face.     Sympathy  moved 
the  hearts  of  strangers ;  those  gloomy  walls  be- 
came a  prison  to  the  heart;  those  heavy  columns 
and  lofty  arches  seemed  draped  with  mourning; 
the  iron  roof  seemed  filled  with  bars;  it  was  a 
castle  of  despair.     Even  the  stir  and  confusion  of 
the  place  mocked  the  grief.   Never  was  that  place 
so  full  of  sorrow;  the  train  delayed.     Some  re- 
turned to  their  homes   and   again   came   down. 
The  city  was  moved;  the  fact   became   known 
upon  the  streets;  excitement  even  entered  the 
business  circles,  yet  the  train  delayed. 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  FRIENDS.  99 


A  young  man  lay  in  the  Culver  House;  his 
face  was  deathly  pale,  his  breathing  labored.  He 
was  slowly  dying.  The  father  was  in  that  train, 
delayed,  and  became  very  anxious ;  he  was  wealthy 
and  offered  money.  Yes,  the  expense  of  the  train 
he  was  willing  to  pay,  but  the  train  delayed. 

At  last,  when  patience  was  almost  exhausted, 
and  the  feeling  was  so  intense,  and  the  night  be- 
gan to  darken,  the  train  moved  out.  The  sus- 
pense was  relieved,  but  the  time  was  still  too 
long,  and  the  distance  great.  They  arrive  at  last. 
The  son  is  dead.  He  breathed  his  last  among 
the  wounded.  Strangers  were  there  to  lay  him 
out,  but  the  friends  could  only  bury  him. 

The  arrival  brought  the  whole  reality  to  view. 
IsTo  one  could  tell  the  horror,  it  must  be  seen  to 
be  known.  The  search  for  friends  must  be  car- 
ried on  in  the  night.  That  horrid  morgue  was 
dark  and  covered  with  gloom ;  the  scene  of  the 
wreck  was  also  covered  with  the  evening  shades. 
Most  of  the  bodies  had,  by  this  time,  been  re- 
moved; those  which  remained  were  deeply  bur- 
ied beneath  the  ruins.  The  valley  was  lonely  and 
sad.    The  death  itself,  which  had  come   down 


100  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


with  one  fell  swoop,  had  ascended,  leaving  only 
the  ashes  of  the  burned,  the  dust  of  death  which 
had  been  gathered  by  hands  of  iron,  eaten  by  the 
tongues  of  fire,  and  the  night  winds  were  making 
them  their  sport.  O!  how  the  heart  went  down 
into  that  lonely  valley,  where  so  many  perished. 
The  night  was  full  of  tears;  it  was  the  second 
night.  From  one  end  of  the  land  to  the  other, 
the  fact  was  known ;  the  greatest  railroad  acci- 
dent on  record  had  occurred.  In  that  fall,  so 
maaiy  went  down !  From  the  distant  east  to  the 
distant  west,  the  lightning  had  flashed  their 
names.  It  was  a  stroke  that  spanned  the  heav- 
ens, and  revealed  how  black  they  were. 

This  sorrow  was  continued.  Day  after  day 
brought  new  scenes.  Each  train  brought  in  new 
groups  of  friends.  All  were  moved  by  a  com- 
mon feeling,  but  their  sorrow  was  visible.  In 
that  dreadful  morgue  there  were  scenes  which 
can  never  be  described ;  God  only  knows  what 
agony  was  in  the  hearts  of  many.  The  sorrow- 
ing company  trooped  in  and  out,  and  varied 
every  hour;  men  and  women,  fathers  and  moth- 
ers, brothers  and  sisters,  husbands  and  wives,  and 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  FRIENDS.  101 


even  the  children  of  the  lost.  Some  already  were 
dressed  in  mourning.  Others  had  come  in  haste 
and  stopped  for  nothing.  The  friends  of  the 
deceased  from  different  places  would  meet  at 
this  spot  dcawn  together  from  a  distance  by  the 
common  bereavement.  Different  circles  had  been 
bereft  by  each  one  of  those  who  had  so  suddenly 
died.  Often  two  or  three  would  come  looking 
for  the  same  person.  A  different  state  of  feeling 
concentrated  at  each  separate  spot.  The  morgue, 
the  office,  and  the  wreck,  all  had  their  circles  and 
their  scenes.  Citizens  and  friends  as  they  came, 
visited  each  in  succession.  The  search  for  relics 
on  the  ice;  the  search  for  bodies  in  the  morgue; 
and  the  sending  of  messages  in  the  busy  office, 
brought  different  feelings  to  those  sensitive 
hearts.  There  was  a  language  in  each  place 
which  spoke  more  than  words. 

In  the  hotels  at  the  upper  town,  there  were 
also  many  exciting  scenes.  As  the  friends  gath- 
ered from  near  and  far,  they  passed  from  place 
to  place,  watching  for  some  trace  of  the  lost. 
Some  became  so  overwhelmed  by  the  great 
calamity  that  they  were  obliged  to  go  home,  and 


102  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER, 


send  others  who  were  less  afflicted  to  continue 
the  search.  Fathers  were  ahnost  crushed  by  the 
fearful  blow,  and  went  in  and  out  of  the  gloomy 
morgue  and  upon  the  cheerless  ice,  and  into  the 
busy  depot,  sick  at  heart,  and  depressed,  and 
would  return  to  their  hotels,  weary  with  the 
search,  and  lonely  amid  the  throngs,  for  the  sons 
or  daughters  on  whom  they  doted,  had  gone  for- 
ever. A  young  man  came  alone,  and  sought  his 
mother  for  four  long  and  weary  days,  but  could 
find  no  trace.  Each  night  he  returned  to  the 
hotel  with  every  lineament  of  his  face  expressive 
of  the  grief  which  was  in  his  heart,  and  would  sit 
down  among  the  throngs  of  strangers,  desolate 
and  bereaved. 

Brothers  and  friends  came,  seeking,  but  finding 
not,  and  with  tearful  eyes  would  return  at  night, 
their  sorrow  growing  deeper  as  their  search  was 
vain.  Whoever  expressed  a  sympathizing  word 
to  those  bereaved  and  stricken  ones,  knew  how 
deeply  the  arrow  had  reached,  and  how  the  soul 
was  riven,  but  there  were  none  who  knew  it  all. 
To  God's  eye  and  that  alone,  was  the  grief  re- 
vealed, and  in  His  bottle  were  the  tears  pre- 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  FRIENDS.  103 


served.     There  were  times  when  it  seemed  as  if 
the  grief  were  too  much  to  look  upon. 

A  woman  was  seen  to  pass  through  the  morgue. 
Her  hard,  care-worn  face  and  humble  dress 
showed  her  to  be  acquainted  with  poverty  and 
accustomed  to  toil.  But  her  husband  was  gone, 
and  as  the  horrid  scenes  came  before  her  gaze, 
and  the  awful  death  was  known,  she  fairly  stag- 
gered in  her  steps.  Her  glaring  eye  and  strange, 
wild  look  betokened  a  mind  almost  deranged. 
Yet,  the  pity  did  not  end,  for  another  would 
come,  so  broken  and  so  weak,  and  so  subdued,  in 
the  widow's  garb,  and  then  the  trembling  father, 
and  even  mother,  stricken  and  bowed  and  almost 
heartbroken,  so  that  it  would  seem  as  if  there 
was  no  end  to  grief. 


104  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER, 


CHAPTER  XY. 


THE  WAVE  OF  SORROW. 

'HERE  was  a  storm  of  grief.  The  waves 
were  tossing  high  upon  the  sea  of  life,  and 
their  crests  were  lifted  far  and  wide,  and  drop- 
ping tears  upon  the  deep.  The  solemn  murmur 
was  echoed  all  along  the  shore.  It  intruded  upon 
the  business  thoughts.  Its  roar  was  heard  above 
the  noise  of  commerce,  and  the  city's  hum.  It 
was  a  melancholy  sound,  men  for  once  were  led 
to  give  up  their  eager  haste,  and  ask,  to  what  all 
this  love  of  gain  might  tend.  The  serious  affairs 
of  life  were  brought  to  mind.  The  interests  of 
eternity  were  compared  to  those  of  time.  All 
eyes  were  directed  to  this  wreck  of  life.  All 
hearts  were  moved  by  this  suddenness  of  death. 
But  this  wave  of  sorrow  did  not  cease.  When 
the  storm  was  over,  and  men  lost  their  wonder, 
the  wave  swept  on.    Long  after  the  calamity  had 


THE  WAVE  OF  SORROW.  105 


failed  to  engage  the  public  ear,  and  had  disap- 
peared from  the  public  press,  the  wave  was 
spreading  still,  and  while  others  had  forgotten 
the  great  event,  it  moaned  along  the  shore.  It 
reached  the  most  distant  homes.  It  swept  into 
many  sorrowing  hearts.     It  was  a  wave  of  grief, 

A  father  had  bidden  his  only  son  good  bye,  in 
a  distant  city  of  the  east.  He  was  a  lovely  youth. 
He  was  destined  to  the  west, .  There  were  those 
whom  he  loved,  in  a  central  city;  one  awaited 
him  there  to  whom  he  was  betrothed.  The 
morning  news  brought  the  sad  tidings  to  both 
those  cities,  it  sent  a  shock  to  those  loving  hearts. 

Two  husbands  were,  together,  on  the  Pacific 
coast.  Both  were  expecting  their  wives  home, 
they  (a  mother  and  daughter,  together  with  a 
son)  were  on  that  train.  Eight  months  they  had 
been  away,  on  an  eastern  trip.  They  had  a  large 
circle  of  friends  and  relatives,  on  an  island,  on 
the  coast  of  Maine.  They  were  on  their  return. 
They  bore  with  them,  many  gifts,  from  friends. 
Thirteen  quilts,  which  had  been  pieced  among 
the  visiting  circles,  and  many  other  valuable 
presents.     It  had  been  a  happy  summer  to  them 


106  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


among  those  friends.  They  had  hoped  to  reach 
their  home,  bj  !N"ew  Year's  daj,  but  had  been 
delayed.  The  father  looked  into  the  San  Fran- 
cisco papers  and  read  the  tidings  of  the  horrible 
event.  The  son,  who  was  saved,  also  telegraphed 
from  the  scene  of  the  disaster.  These  were  the 
startling  words  :  "  Mother  and  sister  are 
both  dead.  My  ribs  are  broken,  my  head  is  hurt, 
I  have  been  robbed,  and  am  penniless  among 
strangers."  On  that  second  night  both  those 
men  were  on  their  way  to  the  scene  of  the  dis- 
aster. 

The  Sabbath  dawned.  It  did  not  seem  like 
Sabbath.  All  time  lost  its  marks.  All  days 
were  alike  in  the  sweeping  grief. 

There  was  a  congregation  gathered  on  that 
distant  island.  The  news  reached  some  at  the 
hour  of  service.  Tidings  were  conveyed  to  the 
church.  The  shock  went  through  the  house, 
and  the  grief  was  such  that  the  services  were 
broken  up.  The  circle  of  friends  embraced  the 
whole  community.  Those  who  had  been  visiting, 
and  had  so  recently  left,  were  now  stricken 
down  by  this  sudden  death.     So  the  wave   in- 


THE  WA  VE  OF  SORRO  W.  107 


vaded  the  ganctuarj  of  God.  It  overwhelmed 
the  Sabbath  sacredness. 

That  Sabbath  passed.  The  survivors  hardly 
realized  it  was  a  holj  day.  One  looked  out  IVijiii 
his  window,  and  wondered  if  there  were  any  min- 
isters in  town,  and  inquired  where  the  churches 
were,  for  he  could  see  no  spires,  and  only  a  few 
chimneys  and  the  tops  of  houses.  The  bells  rang 
out — "  everdng  bells."  It  was  Sabbath  evening. 
Yes,  New  Year's  eve  !  But.  O  how  strange  ! 
The  distant  friends  were  on  their  way.  Many 
of  the  dead  were  lying  there.  The  festivities  of 
the  day  were  to  be  turned  to  mourning. 

A  father  of  a  lovely  girl,  arrived  that  Sabbath 
evening.  He  had  bidden  her  good  bye  only  two 
nights  before.  She  was  a  favorite  child,  every- 
thing had  been  done  to  make  her  education  com- 
plete. No  expense  was  spared.  She  had  just 
finished  school,  and  was  now  starting  out  for  a 
winter's  visit.  A  few  da}S  before,  there  had 
been  a  wedding  scene,  her  dearest  friend  was 
married,  and  she  was  the  bridesmaid.  It  was  a 
very  accomplished  circle  and  a  delightful  party. 
That  daughter  was  dressed  in  white,  her  dress 


108  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


was  trimmed  with  "  Forget-me-nots."  Her  pic- 
ture was  taken  in  that  dress.  Her  friends  re- 
member her  as  thus  "  garlanded  and  adorned," 
but  it  was  a  passing  vision.  Tlie  New  Year  was 
to  have  seen  lier  in  a  distant  city,  a  delightful 
circle  awaited  her  there.  The  first  circles  of  two 
cities  were  interchanging  greetings,  she  was  the 
bright  messenger  between  the  two.  At  either 
end  of  that  treacherous  track,  there  were  gar- 
lands and  greetings.  The  white  feet  passed  out 
from  the  one  circle  but  they  never  reached  the 
other.  Into  the  valley  that  form  went  down,  in 
that  ill-fated  car  she  perished,  and  now  the 
father  is  looking  for,  but  can  find  her  not,  like  a 
vision  she  has  departed.  The  white  garments 
and  the  shadowy  feet  belong  to  an  angel  now. 
They  have  passed  out  from  earthly  scenes  into 
the  Heavenly  land.  In  a  furnace  of  fire  the 
Saviour  walked,  and  took  her  to  himself.  His 
form  was  like  to  the  Son  of  Man,  and  the  smell 
of  fire  was  not  in  her  garments,  but  through  the 
fire  she  passed  into  glory;  and  now  the 
father  seeks  her,  and  can  never  find  her — never! 
antil,  as  an  angel  spirit,  he  beholds  her  there. 


THE  WAVE  OF  SORROW.  109 


Strangers  meet  him,  and  tell  him  it  is  all  in 
vain ;  she  was  in  that  car,  and  no  trace  of  her 
remains.  His  heart  is  crushed,  but  his  ways  are 
calm,  self-controlled  and  courteous,  in  the  midst 
of  grief;  he  returns  to  his  home,  without  his 
daughter.  She  has  flown  to  other  circles  and  he 
cannot  find  her,  but  his  hair  catches  the  light  of 
her  departure,  for  it  turns  white  from  grief.  In 
the  midst  of  the  furnace,  he  receives  something 
of  a  transforming  power,  and  the  tinge  of  the 
better  land  strikes  across  his  brow. 

In  a  city  of  Ohio  was  a  public  school,  and  in 
charge  of  it  was  one  who  had  endeared  himself 
to  his  pupils,  and  was  well  known  as  the  super- 
intendent. "When  news  of  the  accident  was  first 
received,  fears  were  excited,  that  Mr.  Rogers 
might  be  on  the  train  A  dispatch  was  sent  to 
Niagara  Falls,  where  it  was  known  he  was  to  be. 
His  bride  was  with  him,  for  they  were  married 
on  the  Tuesday  before,  and  preparations  had  been 
made  for  their  reception  at  home.  Tidings 
came  back  that  both  were  on  the  ill  fated  train. 
There  was  most  intense  anxiety  in  the  place. 
All  classes  felt  upon  the  subject,  and   the  least 


110  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


scrap  of  information  was  eagerly  sought.  Two 
gentlemen  at  once  started  for  the  scene,  and 
on  Sabbath  a  dispatch  M^as  read  in  church.  The 
worst  of  fears  were  realized  and  the  sorrow  deep- 
ened. Again  dispatches  were  received,  that  Mr. 
and  Mrs,  Rogers  were  burned  to  death  and  no  por- 
tion of  their  bodies  could  be  recovered.  A  special 
meeting  of  the  school  board  was  called  for  appro- 
priate action,  and  "the  most  affecting  and  de- 
pressing spnse  of  the  great  calamity  came  home 
to  all."  "A  deep  gloom  was  cast  over  the  whole 
city  and  mainly  put  an  end  to  the  festivities  of 
the  New  Year's  day," 

There  was  a  family  in  a  distant  place  in  the 
West,  It  was  the  family  of  a  well  known 
physician,  A  mother  was  there.  She  was  the 
physician's  wife.  The  husband  had  left  his 
home  for  the  distant  east  to  visit  an  aged  parent, 
and  was  on  his  return.  He  had  visited  a  brother- 
in-law  on  his  way  home.  The  tidings  go  out 
that  he  is  lost,  and  the  family  is  at  once  stricken 
with  grief  The  "whole  community  where  he 
dwelt  was  moved,"  The  "sense  of  personal 
bereavement  extends   through  the   place"   and 


THE   WAVE  OF  SORROW.  Ill 


reaches  the  surrounding  towns.  The  deepest 
feeling  was  manifest  and  it  "  seemed  as  if  all  the 
citizens  were  mourners  at  once."  "All  mourned 
as  though  one  of  their  own  household  had  fallen." 
The  church  and  community  and  even  the  country 
around  were  affected,  and  afterward  gathered  at 
the  funeral  with  the  expression  of  their  regard 
and  giving  token  of  the  friendship  which  he  had 
acquired.  Dr.  Hubbard  was  dead.  A  fragment 
of  his  body  was  found,  and  his  death  was  mourned 
by  the  vast  assemblies  which  crowded  two  houses 
of  worship  in  his  village  home.  When  laid  away 
with  public  obsequies,  and  by  the  different  orders 
to  which  he  belonged,  two  cities  were  represented. 

And  so  the  wave  swept  on.  It  subsided  from 
the  public  gaze,  but  its  effects  were  felt.  "Widows, 
almost  crushed,  wept  in  secret  for  those  they 
loved^  and  over  their  orphaned  children,  and 
lifted  np  their  hands  in  agony  of  prayer.  The 
letters  as  they  came  to  the  author  only  showed 
how  wide  was  this  silent,  this  unknown  sorrow. 

The  friends  would  write  from  the  distant  cities 
and  say, ''  how  cruel  had  been  the  blow,"  "  how 
sad  the  case;"  but  no  one  could  tell  the  silent 


113  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


loneliness  which  lingered  in  those  homes.  Bit- 
terness was  mingled  with  the  grief;  and  the 
sweet  love  of  woman  was  turned  so  as  to  almost 
curse  the  Company  "which  had  lelt  those  dreadful 
pits  for  the  destruction  of  those  precious  lives;" 
even  "God's  forgiveness  was  asked"  that  the 
feeling  of  indignation  was  so  intense. 

The  secret  mourning  which  followed  the  terri- 
ble crash  was  even  now  the  most  melancholy 
result  of  all.  The  sad  refrain  must  linger  for 
many  a  day.  Through  all  the  noise  of  business 
and  the  sounds  of  mirth  the  plaintive  note  min- 
gles, and  the  sad  calamity  has  not  lost  its  effect. 
The  secret  sorrow  was  the  worst  of  all.  At  first 
the  wave  broke  upon  the  shore  and  drew  back  a 
quick  returning  current.  The  friends  came  at 
once  and  public  sympathy  was  moved,  but  long 
after  they  had  returned  and  the  event  had  sunk 
away  from  the  public  mind,  there  was  a  wave 
which  swept  into  lonely  hearts  and  echoed  in 
unknown  homes. 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  RELICS.  113 


CHAPTER  XYI. 


€ 


THE  SEAECir  FOR  RELICS. 

'HE  week  began  with  a  search  for  rehcs. 
It  was  a  difficult  task.  The  wind  was  cold ; 
the  water  was  deep  and  frozen  over.  Snow  and 
ashes  filled  the  air.  A  confused  heap  of  iron, 
tin  roofs,  broken  trucks,  and  other  debris  were 
mingled  into  one  mass  of  ruins. 

A  company  was  organized  for  the  work,  with 
tlie  train-dispatcher  at  the  head.  Men  were 
hired,  police  were  stationed,  the  ice  was  broken, 
great  iron  beams  and  rails  and  rods  were  drawn 
out,  trucks  and  wheels  and  brakes  and  bolts 
were  moved  away,  and  every  spot  was  searched 
for  traces  of  the  dead.  Watches,  jewels,  shreds 
of  clothing,  hands  of  women  and  arms  of  men 
were  found.  It  was  a  place  where  dia- 
monds lay;    a  stream  where  nuggets  of   gold 


114  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


were  washed ;  a  mine  whera  they  dug  for  treas- 
ures, all  that  men  seek  in  distant  lands,  but  there 
were  human  lives  which  could  not  be  found. 
Everything  was  closely  scanned.  Curiosity  was 
fed  by  the  constant  search,  and  yet,  to  friends, 
the  results  were  meagre. 

A  single  bone  was  found,  around  which  a 
chain  was  wound.  It  was  the  remains  of  a  lady's 
arm. 

A  watch  was  found,  the  gold  was  melted,  the 
works  were  lost,  but  it  bore  the  number  and  the 
pattern  which  proved  it  to  belong  to  Rev.  Dr. 
Washburn,  the  Rector  of  Grace  Church,  Cleve- 
land. 

A  gentleman  made  diligent  search  for  some 
remains  or  relics  of  Dr.  Hubbard,  of  Des  Moines, 
Iowa,  and  at  last  found  a  shawl  strap  and  check 
which  bore  his  name.  The  Doctor's  brother 
arrived  from  Boston,  bringing  his  aged  mother's 
description  of  his  clothing:  Woolen  socks  (which 
she  had  knit  for  him),  and  two  pairs  of  drawers, 
one  worn  inside  of  his  socks.  By  this  descrip- 
tion a  limb  which  had  been  saved  from  burning 
with  the  remainder  of  the  body,  by  lying  in  the 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  RELICS.  115 


water,  was  identified  as  his,  and  taken  home  for 
burial. 

A  cap  was  found  which  proved  that  a  young 
man  named  Marvin  was  lost.  He  was  the  onlj 
son  of  a  widow,  and  her  only  support. 

A  simple  string  was  all  that  another  had,  to 
prove  that  a  body  was  that  of  a  mother.  It  was 
a  present  from  a  daughter,  and  was  tied  about 
the  hair,  and  had  not  been  burned. 

A  key,  indent! fied  by  a  duplicate  sent  by  his 
partner  from  Chicago,  was  the  proof  that  E.  P. 
Rogers  was  on  the  train. 

A  coat  was  recognized  as  belonging  to  Mr,  J. 
Rice,  of  Lowell. 

A  pair  of  initial  sleeve  buttons  were  found 
which  proved  that  Boyd  Russell,  of  Auburn, 
N.  Y.,  was  among  the  lost.  The  body  had  burned, 
diamond  pins  and  badges  and  valuable  jewelry 
had  disappeared,  but  these  remained. 

The  father  and  friends  of  Miss  Minnie  Mixer 
after  long  search  had  given  up  all  hope  of  finding 
a  single  trace  of  her  remains.  At  last  her 
mother  came  and  identified  a  chain  which  had 
been  her  daughter's. 


116  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


The  watch  of  Mr.G.Kepler,  of  Ashtabula,  was 
identilied. 

A  wife  did  not  know  her  husband  was  on  the 
train,  ,  She  missed  his  letters.  She  heard  that 
he  had  gone  to  Dunkirk.  She  searched  the  relics 
and  found  his  knife, 

A  lady  from  Toronto,  a  Mrs.  Smith,  came 
searching  for  her  husband  from  whom  she  had 
heard  just  as  he  left  Buffalo  for  Detroit.  He 
had  seven  thousand  dollars  on  his  person.  A 
pocket  was  fished  up  from  the  stream.  It  con- 
tained the  pocket-book  and  the  name  and  a  bank 
certificate,  but  the  monej  was  not  there.  A  letter 
was  discovered  among  the  relics.  It  bore  no 
name  except  that  of  the  writer,  as  the  envelope 
was  gone.  A  brother  from  Massachusetts  came. 
He  found  no  trace  except  the  letter.  He  went 
to  Chicago  and  sought  some  of  the  survivors  and 
still  did  not  satisfy  himself.  He  returned  and 
consulted  the  author  of  this  book.  Only  two 
persons  were  saved  from  the  car  which  he  was 
in.  They  described  the  occupants  of  the  car  one 
by  one.  "In  one  seat,"  said  they,  "was  a  gentle- 
manly man,  quiet  in  manner,  and  intelligent." 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  RELICS.  117 


,^re  was  going  to  "  South  America  by  way  of  Cal- 
ifornia." "That's  my  brother,"  was  the  tearful 
answer.  In  a  low  toned  voice  and  tender  accents 
we  talked,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  brother  could 
not  rest  until  all  was  told.  Yet  there  was  but 
little  to  be  said. 

An  old  lady  was  on  the  train  who  was  from 
the  east.  She  was  described  as  sitting  in  the 
middle  of  the  car,  a  young  man  with  her.  He 
was  teaching  school  at  the  time  in  Illinois,  and 
had  spent  his  vacation  in  going  after  her.  She 
was  seventy-nine  years  of  age.  Her  angular 
features  and  loud  voice  had  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  passengers.  The  same  lady  was  described 
to  the  author.  A  description  of  her  given  by 
two  young  men  on  the  train  was  recognized  by 
the  friends,  and  a  photograph  of  the  young  man 
shown  to  them  was  recognized  in  turn.  Thus 
two  more  were  identified  as  being:  on  the  train. 

A  family,  consisting  of  a  gentleman  and  his 
wife  and  two  children,were  in  the  drawing-room 
car.  They  were  described  to  the  author  as 
"neither  stylish  nor  very  plain,"  "just  a  com- 
fortable, respectable  and  happy  family."     Mr.  T. 


118  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


C.  "Wright,  of  Tennessee,  had  noticed  them  as 
they  sat  together,  and  was  impressed,  and  told 
what  a  happy  family  they  were.  They  were 
sitting  in  the  state-room  and  enjoying  one  an- 
other's company.  The  little  girl  was  described 
as  having  "light  hair  and  curls  which  hung 
round  her  face  and  was  very  pretty,  but  had 
poor  teeth."  This  description  was  sent  to  the 
"Inter-Ocean"  of  Chicago  by  the  author.  A 
letter  was  afterwards  received  from  Mrs.  H.  H. 
Gray,  of  Darlington,  Wis.,  enquiring  about  a 
family  which  was  lost  ("annihilated"  it  was 
written).  No  one  could  find  any  trace  of  them. 
An  answer  was  returned,  "  Look  into  the  '  Inter- 
Ocean'  of  January  16  and  read  my  letter."  The 
next  letter  received  was  from  the  administrator 
of  the  estate.  It  described  the  gentleman  as  a 
man  of  "  extensive  business,  very  energetic  and 
honorable,"  and  contained  the  photographs  of 
two  children.  "This  whole  family  were  on  their 
way  from  Bethlehem,  Pa.,  to  Gratiot,  Wis." 

The  only  survivor  from  the  drawing-room  car, 
was  a  Mr.  Ormsbee,  from  Boston,  who  was  near- 
sighted and  could  not  tell  much  about  those  in 


tHE  SEARCH  FOR  RELICS.  119 


the  car. .  Mr.  Wright,  who  was  in  the  smoker  at 
the  time  of  the  fall,  belonged  in  this  car.  His 
description  had  already  been  recognized  by  the 
author,  but  the  photographs  were  shown  to  Mr. 
Ormsbee,  and  he,  after  close  examination,  with 
solemnity  said,  "They  were  the  children  who  were 
in  my  car."  Another  photograph  of  the  whole 
family  was  afterwards  sent  to  Mr. Wright,of  Nash- 
ville, and  was  recognized  as  the  likeness  of  the 
family  which  he  had  noticed  in  that  state-room. 

There  is  an  affecting  story  about  this  family: 
It  is  supposed  that  they  were  in  the  state-room 
at  the  time  of  the  fall  and  by  some  means  the 
wife  and  children  were  held  in  the  wreck  and 
could  not  be  extricated.  The  father  tried  to  save 
them  but  the  flames  arose.  He  could  escape 
himself  and  actually  did  get  out  of  the  car  and 
away  from  the  flames,  but  the  little  girl  cried  out, 
"  Papa!  oh.  Papa!  take  me!"  and  he  went  back, 
exclaiming,  "  I  would  rather  perish  with  my 
family;  I  can't  live  without  them,"  and  so  all 
perished  together. 


120  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 


THE   PASSENGERS. 

*  HE  following  account  of  the  passengers  on 
the  ill-fated  train  has  been  gathered  with 
great  difficulty.  Communication  with  survivors 
and  correspondence  with  friends  have  been  the 
sources  of  information,  and  the  description  is 
given  more  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  friends 
than  for  any  general  interest.  It  must  however 
be  remembered  that  each  name  has  its  own  asso- 
ciations. This  is  true  especially  of  those  who 
died.  Their  names  are  freighted  with  precious 
memories  and  carry  a  weight  of  affection  which, 
though  unknown  to  the  public,  must  make  even 
the  very  mention  of  it  exceedingly  valuable. 

If  it  is  a  consolation  to  know  the  last  words  of 
the  dying,  certainly  the  scenes  attending  the 
death  of  those  who  perished  in  this  disaster  must 
have  a  melancholy,  a  tragic  interest. 


THE  PASSENGERS.  121 


We  give  below  an  account  of  the  passengers  in 
the  different  cars  in  succession,  beginning  at  the 
front  and  going  through,  with  as  much  accuracy 
as  possible,  to  the  last  one  in  the  train. 

From  the  first  car,  more  persons  escaped 
than  from  any  other.  .There  were  at  least  six- 
teen of  these.  Mr.  C.  E.  Jones  of  Beloit,  Wis., 
was  sitting  in  the  front  seat;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin and  two  children,  of  Lenox,  Ohio,  who  were 
a  third  of  the  way  back  from  the  front;  J.  M. 
Mowry  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  and  Dr.  C.  A.  Gris- 
wold  of  Fulton,  111.,  were  sitting  together  in  the 
middle  of  the  car;  Thomas  Jackson  of  Water- 
bury.  Conn.,  and  Mr.  A.  H.  Parslow  of  Chicago; 
Yictor  jSi  usbaum,  from  Cleveland,  and  Charles 
Patterson  of  the  same  city,  were  toward  the  rear. 
This  constitutes  all  the  survivors  on  the  right  side. 

On  the  opposite  side,  toward  the  front,  were 
Edward  Trueworthy  and  Joseph  Thompson,  of 
Oakland,  Cal.,  with  Alfred  Gillett  of  Cranberry 
Isle,  Me.,  sitting  in  two  seats,  facing  each  other. 
Mr.  Thompson  is  described  as  having  a  smoking 
cap  on,  while  Mr.  Trueworthy  had  a  shawl  across 
his  shoulders.     Mr.  Gillett  was  the  only  one  out 


123  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


of  this  group  wlio  was  killed.  In  front  of  tliem 
were  a  Mr,  Walter  Hayes  of  Lexington,  Ky., 
with  Miss  Sarah  Mann,  who  was  also  killed, 
Thomas  Jackson  of  Waterbury,  Conn,,  Robert 
Monroe  of  Rutland,  Mass.,  Mr.  Alex.  Monroe  of 
Somerville,  Mass,,  "Wm,  B.  Sanderson,  Alex'r 
Hitchcock,  of  Port  Clinton,  Ohio,  and  Charles 
E,  Rickard  of  Biddeford,  Me,,  were  upon  the 
same  side  of  the  car, 

Mr.  F.  Shattuck  of  Mt,  Yernon,  Ohio,  is 
known  to  have  been  in  this  ear  and  to  have 
been  killed,  Mrs,  Fonda  and  her  nephew,  D. 
Campbell,  of  Milledgeville,  111,,  have  already 
been  described  as  among  the  dead. 

There  was  a  lady  sitting  at  the  right  hand 
near  the  front  who  was  "  slight  built  and  had  a 
child  with  her  about  two  years  old."  The  child 
was  described  as  being  "  quite  forward,  for  his 
age,  talking  well,  and  was  very  bright  and  in- 
teresting," Just  behind  them  was  a  lady  who 
was  described  as  "  large,  full  formed,  dressed  in 
a  plaid  trimmed  with  black,"  A  younger  lady 
sat  behind  her  who  was  "  tall,  well  formed,  dressed 
in  dark  clothes  and  spent  most  of  her  time  in 


THE  PASSENGERS.  123 


reading  a  book,"  These  were  all  killed.  It  is 
probable  that  the  trucks  of  the  car  above  struck 
down  just  above  where  they  were,  as  all  in  this  part 
of  the  car  seem  to  have  perished.  Their  bodies  lay 
near  where  they  sat,  but  were  too  much  crushed 
and  burned  to  be  recognized  by  their  friends. 

The  author  could  have  identified  them  had  he 
received  descriptions  in  time. 

About  the  middle  of  the  car  upon  the  left  side, 
were  two  ladies  sitting  together,  both  of  them 
dressed  in  black.  The  one  was  older  than  the 
other  and  had  been  to  the  East  to  bury  a  daughter 
who  had  died  of  consumption.  Both  of  these 
were  killed. 

The  second  passenger  car  was  well  filled.  There 
were  many  ladies  in  it.  It  is  not  known  for  a  cer- 
tainty who  were  its  occupants,  as  no  one  has  yet 
been  found  by  the  author  who  had  escaped  from 
it.  The  dead  who  are  supposed  to  have  been  in 
it  and  have  since  been  recognized  or  otherwise 
proven  to  have  been  on  the  train,  were  as 
follows:  George  Keppler,  of  Ashtabula,  O.;  L. 
W.  Hart,  of  Akron,  O.;  Isaac  Myer  and  Birdie 
Myer,  his  daughter;  Mrs.  George  and  Mattie 


124  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


George,  of  Cleyeland,  O.;  Maggie  Lewis,  of  St. 
Louis,  Mo.;  Mr.  E.  Cook,  of  Wellington,  O.; 
Mrs.  Lucy  C.  Thomas,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.;  Wm. 
Clements,  Bellevue,  O.;  Mr.  M.  P.  Cogswell, 
Chicago;  Miss  Annie  Kittlewell,  Beloit,  Wis.; 
L.  C.  Crain,  New  Haven,  Conn.;  Boyd  Kussell, 
Albany,  N.  Y.;  Doctor  Hubbard,  Polk  City, 
Iowa,  and  others  whose  bodies  have  not  been 
recognized,  amounting  in  all,  according  to  the 
testimony  of  many  survivors,  to  at  least  forty 
passengers. 

In  the  smoking  car  were  about  sixteen  persons. 
A  group  was  at  the  rear  end.  It  consisted  of 
Mr.  Tilden,  the  superintendent  of  water  works ; 
Geo.  M.  Keid,  superintendent  of  bridges,  and 
David  Chittenden,  of  Cleveland.  The  conductor 
and  news-boy  were  near  by.  Mr.  Stowe,  of 
Geneva,  Ohio,  was  standing  near  and 
listening  to  the  conversation.  As  men- 
tioned before,  this  conversation  was  upon  the 
weight  of  the  engine  and  the  amount  of  water  it 
used.  Mr.  Stockwell  was  sitting  on  the  other 
side,  having  just  bought  a  cigar  of  the  news-boy. 
Another  group  had  dispersed  but  a  little  time 


THE  PASSENGERS.  125 


before.  It  consisted  of  three  who  called  them- 
selves "  the  three  blondes,"  as  the  accidental  re- 
semblance to  one  another  had  amused  them. 
These  were,  Mr.  J.  M.  Mowry,  of  Hartford, 
Conn.,  who  afterwards  went  into  the  first  passen- 
ger car;  Mr.  J.  C.  Earle,  of  Chicago,  111.,  and 
Col.  A.  Maillard,  of  California,  both  of  whom 
remained.  Two  brothers  were  in  the  car — Mr. 
R.  Osborn  and  F.  Osborn,  of  Tecumseh,  Mich., — 
who  were  sitting  together.  Two  young  men  were 
in  another  seat — C.  D.  Meranville  and  Wm.  B. 
"Sanderson.  Mr.  L.  C.  Burnham,  of  Milwaukee, 
Wis.;  Mr.  C.  Lobdell,  Troy,  K.  Y.;  Thos. 
C.  Wright,  Nashville,  Tenn.,  and  Mr.  Harry 
Wagner,  conductor  of  the  sleeping  coaches,  were 
in  the  same  car.  Of  this  number,  Mr.  Stowe, 
Mr.  Chittenden,  Mr.  F.  Osborn,  Mr.  Stockwell 
and  the  sleeping  car  conductor  were  killed.  The 
stove  fell  from  one  end  of  this  car  to  the  other, 
making  a  clean  sweep  by  carrying  everything 
before  it.  As  it  hit  the  end  it  broke  through 
the  timbers  and  then  set  the  car  on  fire.  Those 
who  were  struck  by  it  were  instantly  killed. 
Mr.  R.  Osborn,  whose  brother  perished  by  his 


126  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


side,  was  very  badly  hurt  and  barely  escaped 
with  his  life.  The  car  stood  after  its  fall  at  an 
angle,  so  that  those  who  were  within,  were  obliged 
to  go  up  an  inclined  plane  and  to  get  out  at  the 
Tipper  door.  Most  of  those  who  escaped,  went 
up  the  north  side  of  the  track. 

The  destruction  of  life  was  greatest  in  the 
second  coach,  because,  as  has  been  mentioned, 
the  car  struck  upon  its  side  and  was  badly 
smashed;  yet  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  bodies 
from  this  were  better  preserved  than  from  any 
other  car  in  the  train,  as  they  fell  into  the  stream 
where  the  water  was  deepest,  before  the  flames 
could  reach  them. 

The  following  description  was  sent  by  the  au- 
thor to  the  "Inter-Ocean"  of  Chicago,and  has  since 
proved  its  correctness  by  the  fact  that  several  have 
been  recognized  by  the  description  given  in  it: 

•'The  drawing-room  car  contained  the  following- 
described  persons: 

"A  lady  from  Chicago,  who  is  described  as  being 
'very  handsome;  she  had  left  her  husband  at 
Dunkirk,  and  was  returning  home,'  so  a  passenger 
learned. 

"  Next,  a  lady  and  gentleman.     The  lady   is 


THE  PASSENGERS.  127 


described  as  being  'quiet  in  manner,  and  evi- 
dently a  person  of  culture.'  She  was  about 
twenty-two  years  of  age.  The  gentleman  was 
short,  had  black  whiskers  and  mustache.  Oppo- 
site, and  afterward  in  the  state-room,  was  a  party 
consisting  of  a  gentleman,  his  wife  and  two  chil- 
dren, a  girl  and  boy  [who  have  been  already 
described]. 

"  Next  was  a  tall  gentleman  having  on  a  long 
ulster  overcoat.  He  was  from  Boston,  and  was 
going  to  California;  was  a  merchant  tailor.  My 
informant,  Mr.  Thomas  C.  Wright,  thinks  that 
Mr.  Bliss  was  not  in  this  car.  He  says  others 
were  in  the  rear  of  the  car,  but  does  not  remem- 
ber them.  Mr.  Ormsbee  of  Boston,  was  in  the  car 
and  is  the  only  survivor.  He  was  at  first  pinned 
down  hands  and  feet  and  could  not  extricate  him- 
self. Afterward  something  fell  on  the  top  of  the 
car,  and  loosened  him  and  he  reached  up  his  hand 
and  dragged  himself  out.  As  he  went  out  he 
heard  the  lady  in  the  corner  of  the  car  calling  for 
help.  He  has  seen  the  photograph  of  lie  v.  Dr. 
Washburn  and  recognized  it.  The  probability  is 
that  that  gentleman  was  underneath  the  only  part 
which  was  struck  by  the  '  City  of  Buffalo,'  and 
was  instantly  killed." 

It  is  still  a  question  whether  Mr.  and  Mrs, 
BUbs  were  in  this  car. 


128  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


The  gentleman  and  lady  who  have  been  de- 
scribed above,  are  supposed  to  have  been  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hall,  of  Chicago,  rather  than  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bliss.  The  gentleman  was  reading  to  the  lady  the 
book  "Near  Nature's  Heart;''  as  the  newsboy 
passed,  he  took  out  "  Daniel  Deronda,"  read  it  a 
little,  and  afterward  bought  "  Helen's  Babies." 
Mr.  Ormsbee,  the  sole  survivor  from  the  car, 
judging  from  photographs  which  have  been 
shown  him,  declares  that  they  were  not  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Bliss.  Mr.  Burchell,  of  Chicago,  however, 
maintains  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bliss  were  in  this  car, 
and  his  statement  is  worthy  of  credit.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  they  were  either  in  this  or  in  the 
"  City  of  Buffalo,"  and  it  is  probable  that  no 
trace  of  them  will  ever  be  found. 

The  occupants  of  the  "  Palatine "  were,  Mrs. 
Bingham,  of  Chicago;  Mabel  Arnold,  North 
Adams,  Mass.;  H.  L.  Brewster,  Milwaukee,"Wis ; 
B.  B.  Lyons,  of  New  York  city;  Mrs.  Annie 
Graham,  of  New  York;  Miss  Marion  Shepard, 
Kipon,  Wis.;  Geo.  A.  White,  Portland,  Me.; 
John  J.  White  (?)  of  Boston,  Mass;  Chas.  S. 
Carter,  of  New  York;  Mr.  L.  B.  Sturges,  Minne- 


THE  PASSENGERS.  139 


apolis,  Minn,;  Mr.  J.  E.  Burchell,  Chicago,  111.; 
Col.  A.  Maillard,  of  San  Rafael,  Cal.;  Mr.  H. 
W.  Shepard,  Brooklyn,  K.  Y.;  Lewis  Bochatay, 
Kent's  Plains,  Ct. ;  John  J.  Lalor,  of  Chicago, 
C.  H.  Tyler,  St.  Louis;  and  Jos.  D.  Pickering 
and  nephew,  of  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

The  persons  who  were  in  the  "  City  of  Buffalo  " 
are  as  follows:  Mr.  Henry  White,  of  Weathers- 
field,  Conn.,  who  broke  the  glass  door  and  got 
out;  Mrs.  Bradley,  of  California;  Mr.  J.  P.  Hazel- 
ton,  of  Charleston,  111.,  and  Mr.  Gage,  of  Illinois, 
who  escaped  and  afterward  died.  The  nurse  and 
child  of  Mrs.  Bradley,  who  occupied  the  rear 
state-room,  perished.  Mrs.  A.  D.  Marston  and 
her  mother  and  boy;  Mrs.  Trueworthy  and 
daughter,  Mrs.  Coffin,  of  California;  Mrs.  Moore, 
of  Hammondsport,  X.  Y.;  Mr.  Hodgkins,  of 
Bangor,  Maine;  "a  gentleman  going  to  South 
America,  very  polite  and  fine  looking,"  who 
afterwards  proved  to  be  Mr.  J.  Spooner,  of  Peter- 
shaw,  Mass.;  Mr.  D.  A.  Rogers,  of  Chicago;  Mr. 
Barnard  and  Miss  Mixer,  daughter  of  Dr.  Mixer 
of  Buffalo;  Mr.  Rice,  of  Lowell,  Mass.;  Mr. 
J.  F.  Aldrich,  of  Des  Moines,  Iowa;  and,  it  is 


13)  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


supposed,  Mrs.  H.  M.  Knowles,  and  child  of 
Cleveland; — twentv-one  in  all.  The  probability 
is  that  all  who  were  in  this  car  were  so  com- 
pletely destroyed  that  scarcely  a  vestige  of  them 
remained.  There  has  been  the  most  thorough 
search  for  even  the  least  scrap  that  might  give 
trace  of  their  presence  in  the  ill-fated  coach.  It 
is  probable  that  the  fall  at  first  served  to  crush 
those  who  were  in  it,  and  that  the  position  of  the 
car  gave  a  draft  which  intensified  tl\e  heat  so  as 
to  consume  the  bodies.  The  fire  burned  here  the 
longest,  and  was  still  burning  at  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning. 

here  were  but  few  in  the  "  Osceo,"  which  was 
the  rear  sleeper.  These  were  Mrs.  Eastman,  and 
Mrs.  W.  H.  Lew,  of  Rochester,  N.  Y.;  Mrs. 
T.  A.  Davis,  Kokomo,  Ind. ;  the  brakeman  Stone 
and  the  colored  porter  who  was  killed. 


THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  SURVIVORS.        131 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  8URVIVOE8. 

^  VERY  one  of  those  who  got  out  of  the  train 
'*'  had  a  different  storj.  These  are  valuable 
because  they  bring  before  us  a  picture  of  the 
scene  in  its  different  features,  l^ome  one  escaped 
from  every  car  but  one.  From  the  second  pas- 
senger coach  no  one  was  left  to  tell  the  tale. 
Every  one  perished  in  the  fall  or  crash.  From 
the  first  and  third  and  fifth,  many  escaped;  from 
the  fourth,  only  one;  from  the  sixth,  three;  and 
from  the  last,  all  but  one.  The  story  of  Mr. 
Parslow,  who  was  in  the  first,  has  been  given 
through  the  public  press,  and  it  is  given  here  as 
descriptive  of  the  experience  common  to  others. 
He  says: 

"  The  first  intimation  he  had  of  the  affair  was 
the  sound  of  the  crash  of  the  bridge.  Then  he 
felt  and  realized  the  sensation  of  the  downward 
tendency  of  the  coach.     He  clutched  one  of  the 


133  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


seats  to  steady  himself.  All  of  a  sudden,  in  the 
flash  of  a  second,  the  passengers  were  thrown  to 
the  end  of  the  coach  which  had  reached  the 
water.  The  broken  pieces  of  ice,  the  snow,  and 
fragments  of  the  car  came  in  with  a  rush.  He 
caught  the  stove,  which  had  not  yet  been  cooled 
from  its  heat,  thinking  to  save  himself  thereby 
from  drowning.  In  doing  so  he  burned  his  hand 
to  a  blister,  while  the  other  portion  of  his  body 
was  freezinor  in  the  water.  He  remembered  the 
crashing  of  the  smoker  upon  his  car.  As  soon 
as  he  could  collect  his  thoughts  he  went  to  work 
to  extricate  himself,  but  how  he  did  it  was  unable 
to  state.  He  only  knew  he  was  out  of  the  car 
and  into  the  fragments  of  ice  and  floating  pieces 
of  the  wreck.  From  there  he  managed  to  reach 
unbroken  ice  and  from  thence  he  climbed  up  the 
height  and  was  the  first  of  that  scarred  and 
bruised  number  to  reach  the  top.  In  doing  this 
it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  poor  man  bad  a 
piece  of  gilt  molding,  one  inch  wide,  three-quar- 
ters of  an  inch  thick,  and  eight  inches  long,  in  -a 
portion  of  his  body.  It  had  entered  the  left 
shoulder,  back  of  the  collar-bone,  and  penetrated 
under  the  shoulder-blade  into  the  side.  He 
scarcely  realized  his  situation  until  he  had  been 
conveyed  to  the  nearest  place  of  comfort.  In  his 
car  were   from    40    to    45    passengers;    in   the 


THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  SURVIVORS.        133 


smoking-car  he  thinks  about  the  same  number. 
In  his  opinion  there  were  not  less  than  200  pas- 
sengers in  all.  He  says  when  he  got  out  of  the 
car  on  the  ice  the  screams  of  the  dying  and 
crushed  broke  upon  his  ears,  and  were  the  most 
pitiful  sounds  that  were  ever  heard.  He  said 
that  all  occurred  in  such  a  remarkably  brief  space 
that  he  cannot  now  realize  how  it  was  that  so 
much  of  human  misery  could  be  crowded  into  a 
speck  of  time." 

The  experience  of  those  in  the  smoking-car  was 
quite  remarkable.  Several  who  escaped  from  this, 
have  told  of  the  fall.  There  were  but  four  killed 
in  it.  Among  them  was  Harry  Wagner,  con- 
ductor of  the  sleeping  cars,  who,  it  is  said,  was 
driven  against,  and  even  through,  the  end  of  the 
car,  by  the  stove,  which  swept  through  the  whole 
length  with  terrible  force. 

The  conductor,  Mr.  Henn,  speaks  of  this  and 
says  that  the  stove  shot  past  him  on  one  side 
and  something  else  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  other 
side,  but  he  escaped.  Mr.  J.  M.  Earle's  experi- 
ence was  quite  remarkable.  He  gives  expression 
to  the  feelings  which  many  had  in  almost  tragic 
words.     He  says: 


134  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


"It  did  not  seem  to  me  as  if  we  had  fallen.  I 
was  thoroughly  collapsed  for  a  minute  or  two. 
Then  I  heard  two  or  three  crashes — cars  tum- 
bling off  the  bridge  and  striking  ours.  At  the 
second  crash  I  threw  myself  on  the  floor  and 
crouched  down  under  the  seats.  I  did  not  know 
but  the  next  one  would  crush  us  all.  There  were 
several  people  near  me,  and  I  told  them  to  crouch 
down. 

In  the  coming  down  the  feeling  was  a  beautiful 
conglomeration  of  swimming  and  swinging — I 
didn't  know  whether  I  was  on  my  head  or  heels. 
I  can't  describe  how  I  felt  when  the  car  struck 
the  solid  ice.  Every  part  of  my  body  seemed  to 
be  going  in  opposite  directions.  I  did  not  expe- 
rience a  dead  calm,  but  a  feeling  of  intense  agony; 
and  that  continued  until  I  came  to  myself.  It 
must  have  been  half  an  hour  certainly  befqre  I 
knew  what  I  was  doing.  Then  I  got  up  and 
struggled  around.  The  terrible  noise  made  by 
the  falling  cars  made  me  hold  my  breath  when  I 
thought  it  was  about  time  for  another  to  come 
down. 

The  story  of  Mr.  George  A.  "White  is  the  most 
interesting  of  all.  For,  he  not  only  describes  the 
car  "Palatine,"  from  which  so  many  escaped,  but 
he  gives  such  an  account  as  no  other  one  has 
done.     His  statement  is  given  at  length: 


THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  SURVIVORS.        135 


"In  going  down  there  was  hardly  any  sound. 
The. only  thing  we  heard  was  that  heavy  breath- 
ing which  bespeaks  a  fear  of  something  terrible 
to  come.  The  first  sound  that  greeted  my  ear 
was  after  we  struck  the  ice.  The  breaking  of 
the  glass  was  like  rifle  shots,  and  the  train  com- 
ing down  made  a  terrific  roar.  Our  car  fell  as 
it  rode, — bodily  and  straight, — which  saved  our 
lives.  As  soon  as  the  car  touched  bottom  I 
could  see  nothing,  all  was  dark.  1  groped  my 
way  out  through  the  east  end  of  the  car.  Behind 
us  was  the  Buffalo  car,  standing  on  end,  almost 
perpendicular,  resting  against  the  abutment  of 
the  bridge,  one  end  having  taken  our  platform. 

"I  think  none  of  the  Buffalo-car  passengers  were 
saved.  The  coach  fell  on  end,  and  I  never  heard 
a  sound  from  it  after  the  fall,  and  no  one  came 
out.  All  was  death  in  my  estimation.  The 
Buffalo  was  full  of  passengers.  The  parlor  car 
was  just  ahead  of  us,  and  no  one  came  out  of  it. 
I  think  all  the  passengers  it  held  were  killed. 

"At  the  right  of  us,facing  the  west, was  a  car  that 
lay  on  its  side.  The  top  of  it  was  close  on  to  ours. 
Our  car  lay  just  as  it  was  running.  I  went  up  over 
the  roof  of  the  other  car  to  take  a  look  up  and 
around.  I  saw  a  gentleman  and,  I  think,  a  lady, 
following  me.  On  looking  into  the  car,  I  saw  a 
large  number  of  people  lying  together  in  a  mass. 


136  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


Thd  car  was  crushed  at  its  bottom  and  sides.  The 
scene  within  was  horrible,  heartrending — inde- 
scribable. It  was  enongli  to  unnerve  the  bravest. 
There  were  maimed  and  bruised  men,  women, 
and  children,  all  held  down  by  the  cruel  timbers. 
They  were  in  different  stages  of  delirium  and 
excitement.  Some  were  screaming,  some  wera 
groaning,  and  others  praying.  There  was  hardly 
any  one  within  who  seemed  rational. 

"I  saw  the  encroachments  the  fire  was  making. 
While  on  the  roof  of  that  car  I  took  a  speedy 
survey  of  the  situation.  I  realized  the  terrible, 
yawning  chasm.  I  shall  never  forget  the  horrors 
of  that  night." 

The  experiences  of  the  survivors  of  the  "  City 
of  Buffalo"  are  also  given.  So  many  perished 
in  this  car,  that  a  description  of  those  in  it  may 
be  of  interest  to  their  friends. 

The  story  of  Mr.  H.  A.  White,  of  Weathers- 
field,  Ct.,  as  published  in  the  daily  papers,  is  as 
follows.     lie  says: 

"  The  first  thought  that  came  into  my  mind  was 
that  I  was  dead ;  that  it  was  no  use  for  me  to  stir 
or  try  to  help  myself.  I  waited  in  that  position 
until  I  heard  two  more  crashes  come,  when  all 
was  quiet;  I  then  tried  to  see  if  I  could  not  raise 
what  was  on  and  around  me  and  succeeded.     I 


THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  SURVIVORS.        137 


opened  mj  eyes  and  the  first  thing  I  saw,  was  the 
glass  in  the  top  of  the  door  that  opened  into  the 
saloon  in  the  rear  end  of  the  car.  I  struck  that 
immediately  with  my  hand  and  thrust  ray  head 
through  it.  I  spoke  then.  Up  to  this  time  there 
was  not  a  shriek  or  voice  heard  in  the  car  that  I 
was  in — all  had  been  stilled." 

He  then  says  that  he  heard  a  voice  below  him 
and  that  he  endeavored  to  help  a  man  out  of 
the  car  after  he  had  got  out  himself,  but  failed. 

Mrs.  Bradley  whO;  with  her  nurse  and  child, 
was  in  the  rear  state-room  near  the  section  where 
Mr. White  was  sitting,  speaks  of  this  same  silence. 
She  called  repeatedly  but  heard  no  sound  except 
that  of  her  own  voice.  She  looked  below  her  for 
her  child  and  nurse.  All  she  could  see  was  that 
they  were  underneath  the  wreck.  She  vainly 
tried  to  lift  them  but  their  bodies  seemed  to  sink 
lower  and  lower  in  the  debris.  Not  a  sound  pro- 
ceeded from  that  direction,  and  the  only  conclu- 
sion she  could  arrive  at  was  that  their  bodies  had 
been  crushed. 


138  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS. 

'HE  personal  incidents  wliich  occurred  were 
numerous.  Many  of  these  have  been 
brought  to  public  attention  through  the  press, 
yet  there  are  others  which  have  not  been  nar- 
rated. Every  one  had  his  own  story,  but  in  the 
confusion  of  the  scene  no  one  is  really  supposed 
to  have  a  clear  view  of  the  whole  event. 

These  incidents  are  told  by  the  different  pas- 
sengers who  escaped  and  by  the  citizens  who 
hastened  to  the  rescue.  The  following  are  given 
as  showing  the  experiences  of  the  women  who 
were  on  the  train.  There  were  many  who  per- 
ished, and  it  is  affecting  to  read  the  story  of  their 
sufferings  while  so  helpless  in  the  wreck.  But 
the  heroism  manifested  by  those  who  escaped,  is 
especially  worthy  of  note. 

The  "Cleveland  Leader"  contains  the  following: 


PERSONAL  INCIDENTS.  139 


"At  the  time  of  the  disaster  a  man  rushed  down 
to  the  scene  ready  to  help;  he  saw  a  woman 
struggling  for  life  and  went  to  her  assistance;  he 
carried  her  by  main  force  to  the  solid  ice,  and 
then,  urged  by  the  cries  of  the  motlier,  went  back 
to  the  rescue  of  a  sweet  child  of  three  or  four 
years  of  age;  the  treacherous  wood  in  splintering, 
had  caught  the  child  in  its  grasp,  and  ,the  fire 
completed  the  terrible  work.  The  man  was  com- 
pelled to  see  the  child  enveloped  in  flames,  and 
to  hear  her  cries  of  'Help  me.  Mother!'  ringing 
out  in  the  agony  of  death  and  on  the  ears  of  the 
cruel  night.  In  a  moment  she  was  lost,  swept 
up  by  the  sharp  tongues  of  fire,  while  her  mother 
in  helpless  agony  fell  to  the  earth  in  a  deadly 
swoon." 

Mr.  Reid,  one  of  the  passengers,  saw  a  woman 
held  in  the  ruins  and  burning.  She  was  calling 
out  amid  her  groans,  "  Shoot  me,  and  get  me  out 
of  this  misery."  The  saddest  sight  he  saw  was  a 
woman  looking  at  her  burning  child. 

Mrs.  Lew  says  when  the  crash  came  she  was 
lying  down  with  her  head  near  the  open  window. 
The  next  thing  she  knew  was  that  her  head  was 
out  in  the  open  air,  and  her  body  inside  of  the 
car.  As  soon  as  she  got  her  head  out,  she  saw 
the  newsboy  who  had  a  few  minutes  before  sup- 
plied her  with  reading  matter.     She  begged  of 


140  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


him  to  help  her.  He  said,  "I  would  be  glad  to, 
bat  my  old  mother  is  dependent  on  me  for  her 
entire  support.  If  I  am  killed  what  will  she  do  ?" 
Mrs.  Lew  again  entreated  him  to  assist  her.  He 
then  came  so  near  to  her  as  to  be  able  to  take 
hold  of  her  hand  by  extending  his  arms  full 
length.  As  they  joined  hands  the  newsboy 
pulled  ^nd  Mrs.  Lew  threw  herself  forward,  com- 
ing out  of  the  car.  She  then  walked  on  the  ice 
to  the  bank,  where  she  was  helped  up  the  em- 
bankment by  men  and  taken  to  an  eating-house, 
where  her  wolinds  were  dressed. 

A  villager  saw  a  woman  caught,  back  of  the 
platform  railing,  and  attempted  to  pull  her  out. 
It  was  only  by  superhuman  effort  he  succeeded, 
then  only  to  find  them  both  up  to  the  waist  in 
the  water.  "Can  you  save  me?"  she  asked  him, 
in  tones  that  went  to  his  heart.  "Yes,  if  you 
hold  on,"  he  said.  She  did  hold  on  to  him  with 
all  her  strength,  and  he  got  her  safely  to  the 
shore,  although  in  the  water  several  times. 

The  story  of  Mrs.  Bingham  has  been  already 
told.  She  owed  her  life  to  her  own  determined 
spirit,  though  it  is  remarkable  that  any  woman 
with  a  broken  limb  could  summon  the  courage  to 
break  a  window  and  then  jump  into  the  water  and 
draw  herself  to  the  land. 


PERSONAL  INCIDENTS.  141 


The  lieroism  of  Mrs.  Swift  has  been  mentioned 
by  the  papers,  and  the  author  takes  pleasure  in 
adding  his  testimony  to  the  noble  and  lovely 
spirit  which  she  manifested  through  all  the  sad 
scenes.  The  following  is  an  account  of  the  man- 
ner of  her  escape: 

"Mrs.  Swift  retained  her  senses  and  her  pres- 
ence of  mind.  She  was  badly  injured  at  the 
time,  but  did  not  realize  it.  When  the  accident 
occurred  there  was  a  terrible  crash ;  the  bell-rope 
snapped  like  the  report  of  a  pistol,  and  the  lights 
were  extinguished.  As  the  cars  went  down  there 
was  no  noise.  Her  husband  was  hurled  across 
the  aisle  and  held  down  senseless.  She  was 
wedged  in  between  two  seats,  but  extricated  her- 
self. She  spoke  to  her  husband,  but  he  made  no 
reply,  and  she  thought  he  was  dead.  The  agony 
of  her  mind  at  that  moment  was  fearful  to  con- 
template. She  finally,  with  the  aid  of  Mr. 
White,  got  him  out.  He  was  then  delirious,  and 
hardly  knew  where  he  was  going.  Her  anx- 
iety was  all  for  her  husband.  Miss  Shepard,  Mrs. 
Graham  and  Mr.  White  then  took  or  assisted 
everybody  out  of  the  car,  reassuring  them  by 
words  and  deeds,  and  thus  aided  in  saving  many 
lives." 

Miss    Shepard,   of   Eipon,  Wis.,    proves    to 


142  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


have  been  a  heroine  in  the  terrible  tragedy. 
Many  of  the  survivors  have  spoken  of  her  as  so 
brave  in  the  midst  of  the  danger.  She  "was 
very  cool  and  collected,"  says  Mr.  Sturgis,  "and 
she  acted  in  a  heroic  manner.  She  helped  the 
women  out,  and  while  I  was  trying  to  get  the 
men  out,  she  was  on  the  outside  smashing  the 
windows  with  a  piece  of  timber,  clearing  the  way 
for  those  inside." 
•    Mr.  "White,  of  Portland,  says  : 

"She  was  one  of  the  bravest  and  best  women  I 
ever  met.  She  got  out  by  herself.  When  I  at 
last  came  out  of  the  Palatine,  after  I  was  satisfied 
that  there  were  no  more  persons  in  tlie  car,  the 
gentlemen  who  had  had  their  legs  broken  were 
still  lying  within  a  few  feet  of  the  burning  cars, 
and  their  lives  were  now  again  in  jeopardy. 

"To  save  their  lives  was  my  next  endeavor.  I 
couldn't  take  the  two  at  once.  So  I  took  hold  of 
one  and  dragged  him  some  thirty  feet  away. 
Poor  fellow!  he  had  several  ribs  broken,  and  his 
ankle  was  swollen  to  three  times  its  size.  I  was 
very  weary  at  this  time.  The  fire  was  all  the 
time  encroaching,  more  and  more,  and  the  ago- 
nizing cries  of  suffering  and  burning  humanity 
were  hushed,  as  they  suffocated  or  the  cruel 
flames  sent  death  to  relieve  them.  I  got  my  man 


PERSONAL  INCIDENTS.  143 


awaj,  but  the  other  was  still  there.  This  one  was 
delirious  from  pain  and  excitement.  I  was  anx- 
ious for  both.  A  citizen  from  Ashtabula  came 
along,  and  I  asked  him  to  watch  my  charge  while 
I  brought  back  the  other  to  a  place  of  safety. 
He  said  he  would.  I  had  just  reached  the  other 
man,  when  I  looked  around  and  saw  that  the  cit- 
izen had  deserted  his  post.  But  there  stood  Miss 
Shepardby  me.  "We  stood  in  full  eighteen  inches 
of  snow  and  six  inches  of  water,  the  ice  having 
been  broken  and  crushed  by  the  cars.  She  said 
coolly,  'Can't  I  do  something  to  help  you?  I 
am  uninjured.'  I  got  the  other  man  away  to  a 
place  of  safety,  some  twelve  feet  back  from  the 
car.  It  wasn't  over  seven  minutes  after  the  fall 
before  our  car  was  burning,  too."  Mr.  C.  E. 
Torris  says:  He  saw  her  standing  on  the  ice  and 
dipping  her  handkerchief  in  the  water  and  wash- 
ing away  the  blood  from  the  face  of  a  wounded 
man.  And  the  citizens  of  Ashtabula  also  speak 
of  her,  and  say  that  it  seemed  so  strange  to  see 
her,  while  all  the  rest  were  wounded  and  bleed- 
ing, moving  around  the  engine  room,  assisting  in 
every  way,  calm  and  self-possessed.  She  seemed 
more  like  some  good  angel  who  had  been  sent  at 
such  an  hour  to  bestow  the  gentle  ministration  of 
her  sex  upon  the  suffering. 


144  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


KINDNESS   SHOWN. 

HE  citizens  of  Ashtabula  did  all  in  their 
power.  The  disaster  was  no  sooner  known 
than  many  of  them  hastened  to  the  rescue. 
Great  exertions  were  made  by  those  who  were 
present,  not  only  to  save  the  living,  but  as  far  as 
possible  in  their  separate  action  to  extinguish  the 
flames.  The  survivors  were  no  sooner  in  a 
condition  to  be  removed  than  persons  were 
found  who  were  ready  to  take  the  worst  cases 
among  them  to  their  own  homes.  Some  of  the 
wounded  who  were  left  near  the  depot,  especially 
those  who  were  at  the  Eagle  Hotel,  were  removed 
to  the  hotels  up-town  and  comfortably  provided 
for.  Ladies  called  upon  them  wherever  they 
were,  and  carried  to  them  such  delicacies  as 
would  tempt  their  appetites,  and  flowers  to  please 
the  eye,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  giving  atten- 


KINDNESS  SHOWN.  145 


tion  to  the  strangers,  all  of  them  showing  how 
much  their  sympathies  had  been  moved  by  this 
sad  calamity.  The  mayor  of  the  city  was  very 
energetic  amid  the  excitement  of  the  first  few 
days.  He  not  only  met  the  responsibilities  of 
his  office  with  promptness,  but  he  showed  the 
kindness  of  his  heart  in  that  he  took  one  of  the 
wounded,  a  Mr.  Tomlinson,  to  his  house,  and 
there  cared  for  him  until  he  died. 

Mr.  Strong,  the  station  agent,  also^  though 
laboring  under  the  oppressive  sense  of  being 
misunderstood,  did  all  that  he  could  under  the 
circumstances.  Several  of  the  firemen  have 
borne  testimony  to  the  great  exertions  which  he 
made  during  the  night  of  the  fire.  The  disad- 
vantage under  which  he  labored  on  that  night 
was  that  he  was  not  present  at  the  depot  at  the 
time  of  the  accident,  but  was  at  home,  about  half 
a  mile  away.  The  orders  from  the  central  ofiice 
in  reference  to  surgeons  reached  him  through  the 
telegraph  office  up-town,  and  his  first  duty  was 
to  obey  them,  but  as  he  reached  the  scene  of  the 
fire  the  very  sympathy  which  he  felt,  led  him 
under  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  to  give 


146  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


those  answers  which  did  so  much  damage  and 
which  were  so  much  misunderstood. 

The  railroad  authorities  continued  to  furnish 
everything  that  might  reheve  the  sufferings  or 
restore  the  losses  of  those  who  survived.  Physi- 
cians were  procured  and  nurses  provided.  Every 
accommodation  which  hotels  could  furnish  was 
paid  for  with  a  liberal  hand.  Those  whose  cloth- 
ing had  been  destroyed  or  injured,were  furnished 
with  new  suits  throughout.  The  bills  of  physi- 
cians were  paid.  Return  tickets  were  furnished 
and  sleeping-car  accommodations  afforded  to  the 
wounded  to  their  very  homes.  As  friends  came 
in  search  of  the  lost,  they  at  times  received  free 
passes  each  way,  and  even  escorts  in  some  cases 
■yere  furnished.  Bereaved  mothers  and  fathers 
and  the  widowed,were  permitted  to  visit  the  place 
in  search  of  relics  at  the  company's  expense. 

The  event  was  a  calamity  to  the  road  as  well 
as  to  the  passengers  and  their  friends.  The  man- 
agers had  prided  themselves  on  the  success  and 
completeness  of  their  system.  The  small  num- 
ber of  accidents  on  the  line  had  been  noticed,  but 
the  sudden  and  terrible  calamity  eclipsed  all  this, 


KINDNESS  SHO  WN.  147 


and  now  the  grief  was  great  and  widespread.  The 
horror  was  overwhelming  and  the  excitement 
high.  It  was  impossible  to  know  this  without 
feeling  it  as  a  personal  affliction,  and  no  doubt 
the  sense  of  it  led  to  the  death  of  the  man  who, 
of  all  others,  was  the  most  sensitive  and  sympa- 
thetic. 

The  attention  of  religious  people  to  the  spir- 
itual wants  of  the  survivors  is  worthy  of  men- 
tion. Clergymen  called  and  conversed  with  them 
as  opportunity  was  offered.  The  survivors  were 
hardly  able  at  first  to  give  expression  to  their 
feelings,  as  the  confusion  of  the  place  was  so  great. 
Several  were  crowded  into  the  same  room.  The 
wounds  inflicted  on  the  head  prevented  con- 
nected thoughts.  The  pains  and  weakness,  and 
the  shock  to  the  nervous  system  rendered  the 
condition  of  nearly  every  one  critical,for  several 
days.  It  seemed  uncertain  whether  they  might 
not  sink  away  under  the  terrible  reaction  and  de- 
pression caused  by  the  excitement  and  exposiire. 
Wounds  and  bruises  which  no  one  supposed  they 
had,  were  felt,  and  new  ones  discovered  every 
day.    But  as  one  and  another  were  removed  to 


148  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


separate  rooms,  th.e  conversations  and  prayers 
brouglit  out  the  deeper  feelings  which  had  been 
hidden. 

It  was  with  great  solemnity  that  one  and  an- 
other would  recount  the  peculiar  method  of 
escape.  More  than  one  said  that  he  thought 
"his  time  had  come."  One  said  that  he  did  not 
expect  to  live,  and  that  he  took  his  card  in  his 
hand  that  his  name  might  be  recognized  if  he 
should  die. 

The  suddenness  of  death  was  full  of  solemnity 
to  all.  Even  the  most  reckless  and  hardened  were 
subdued.  One  young  man  in  a  spirit  of  bravado 
as  he  entered  the  room  of  a  companion,  uttered 
an  oath;  but  the  gentleman  addresssd  arose  in 
bed,  lame  and  wounded  as  he  was,- and  with  sol- 
emn voice  and  determined  manner,  exclaimed: 
"I  will  not  permit  the  name  of  God  to  be  used 
in  that  way  in  my  presence — especially  at  such  a 
time  as  this."  The  young  man  felt  the  rebuke, 
and  turned  around  hid  his  face,  and  soon  retired. 
A  few  days  after,  he  came  back  and  said  that  "iie 
had  not  arisen  from  his  bed  a  morning  with- 
out thanking  God  for  preserving  his  life,"  and 


KINDNESS  SHO  WN,  149 


apologized  for  having  spoken  as  he  did.  A  gen- 
tleman and  his  wife  who  had  escaped  from  the 
"Palatine,*'  were  together  at  the  "American 
House,"  happy  in  being  spared  to  each  other, 
peaceful,  loving  and  grateful;  but  they  were  es- 
pecially delighted  to  receive  a  letter  from  their 
pastor  in  the  distant  East,  and  read,  to  those  who 
called,  sentences  from  it  so  glowing  with  that 
pastor's  affection  and  sympathy. 

The  ministration  of  women  was  one  of  the 
delightful  things  connected  with  the  event.  A 
betrothed  had  no  sooner  heard  of  the  wreck  and 
of  the  survival  of  heu  lover,  than  she  hastened 
to  his  side  and  spent  the  days  in  caring  for  him 
and  comforting  him  by  her  presence. 

When  the  clergymen  visited  those  different 
persons  at  their  hotels,  they  were  most  respect- 
ful in  their  cordial  response  to  prayer  and 
words  of  counsel.  Even  those  to  whom  the 
subject  had  not  altogether  been  agreeable  before, 
listened  and  seemed  stirred  to  the  heart  with 
grateful  emotions.  The  time  and  place  for  prayer 
was  given,  and  such  nearness  to  the  Almighty 
God  was  never  known  before.     It  seemed  as  if 


150  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


the  veil  of  eternity  had  opened,  and  the  presence 
of  God  was  felt.  A  loving  wife,  so  gentle  and 
80  good,  had  come  to  her  husband's  side.  The 
affection  and  the  care  were  great,  but  the  grati- 
tude to  God  was  more,  and  the  piety  of  both 
became  suddenly  deep.  It  was  like  the  stream 
in  the  prophet's  vision.  As  tlie  past  of  Chris- 
tian life  was  reviewed  so  beriously,  penitence 
sprang  up  within  the  heart,  and  then  the  grati- 
tude to  God,  and  then  the  consecration,  and  then 
the  delightful  swelling  love  and  peace,  and  then 
the  faith  that  seemed  to  hide  itself  in  God's  own ' 
heart,  and  there  was  a  mingling  of  the  emotions 
as  if  the  ocean  of  God's  presence iwas  receiving 
them  to  its  own  deep  love,  and  they  were  taking 
the  first  baptism  of  the  Spirit. 

The  goodness  of  that  precious  wife,  now  had 
its  triumph.  It  brought  the  husband's  heart  and 
soul  to  the  same  deep  faith  and  piety  which  she 
had  possessed. 

A  gentleman,  too,  who  had  never  made  a 
profession  of  religion,  but  whose  conversation 
showed  much  of  acquaintance  with  the  world, 
and  habits  of  observation,  was  led  to  unburden 


KINDNESS  SHO  WN.  151 


his  heart's  inmost  thoughts  to  the  clergymen  who 
called  in.  He  said:  '•!  am  nut  a  professor  of  re- 
ligion, sir.  I  am  a  worldly  man — a  man  of  busi- 
ness— but  1  have  been  brought  up  religiously, 
have  had  a  praying  father  and  mother,  and  it 
seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  some  faith,  for  as  I  was 
going  down  in  that  wreck,  and  felt  that  inde- 
scribable sensation  of  falling — (and  here  he 
dropped  his  hands  beside  the  bed  with  such  ex- 
pressive look  and  gesture) — a  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture flashed  into  my  mind,  and  has  been  running 
in  it  ever  since.  These  are  the  words:  "The 
foundation  of  the  Lord  standeth  sure."  The 
clergyman  turned  to  the  Bible,  and  found  the 
text,  and  was  impressed  with  the  wonderful 
appropriateness  of  it:  "The  Foundation  of  the 
Lord  standeth  sure  and  the  Lord  knoweth  them 
that  are  his." 


153  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE  MEMORIAL  SERVICES. 

*IIE  time  at  length  arrived  for  laying  away 
the  unburied  dead.  l!Tobody  had  recog- 
nized them.  God  alone  knew  them,  and  there- 
fore to  his  sacred  earth  were  they  consigned,  that 
at  the  resurrection  day  he  miglit  bring  them  forth 
to  the  knowledge  of  all.  Garnered  in  the  har- 
vest of  flame,  they  were  to  be  laid  away  in  God's 
store-house. 

The  hands  of  strangers  were  outstretched  to 
bury  them,  for  the  hearts  of  others  could  only 
mourn  for  them,  without  claiming  the  poor  rem- 
nants which  were  so  unrecognizable. 

Their  sepulchre  was  in  the  stranger's  soil, 
though  their  memory  was  in  many  a  home. 

The  village  of  Ashtabula,  made  memorable  by 
so  direful  a  calamity,  was  now  to  become  the 
sacred  burial  place  of  these  bodies  which  per- 


THE  MEMORIAL  SERVICES.  153 


ished.  Most  sacredly  did  the  citizens  of  the 
place  regard  this  trust,  which  God  in  His  provi- 
dence had  committed  to  them.  No  event  in  the 
history  of  the  place  had  so  awakened  sympathy 
and  aroused  the  people,  and  now  every  attention 
that  was  possible,  was  to  be  paid  at  the  last  sad 
funeral  rites.  The  town  gave  itself  up  to  mourn- 
ing. Arrangements  had  been  previously  made 
for  the  occasion,  and  the  authorities  of  the  city, 
the  social  organizations  and  the  religious  bodies 
were  all  prepared  to  honor  those  who  were  to  be 
laid  away  in  their  midst. 

A  beautiful  lot  had  been  chosen  in  the  ceme- 
tery which  overlooked  the  whole  city,  and  thers, 
among  the  sacred  remains  of  their  own  beloved, 
the  citizens  resolved  to  place  those  who  were  in- 
deed strangers  to  them,  but  whom  somebody 
loved.  Among  the  choicest  lots  of  that  beautiful 
hill,  a  place  had  been  chosen  for  their  deposit. 
The  winding-sheet  of  snow  had  been  drawn 
aside,  and  the  graves  had  been  dug,  and  multi- 
tudes assembled  from  the  vicinity,  and  the  result 
was  that  an  immense  assemblage  was  gathered 
for  the  solemn  services.     A  special  train  arrived 


154  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


from  Cleveland,  brinoring  the  officers  of  the  Rail- 
road, and  the  friends  and  parishioners  of  Rev. 
Dr.  Washburn  and  others.  ^^  noon  all  the 
places  of  business  were  closed,  and  the  citizens 
gathered  at  the  services  or  arranged  themselves 
in  the  long  procession.  The  first  church  service 
was  held  in  the  Methodist  house,  as  it  was  the 
largest  in  the  place,  and  at  this  the  clergymen  of 
the  village  took  part.  The  opening  prayer  was 
made  by  Rev.  I.  O.  Fisher,  of  the  Baptist  Church, 
with  a  few  touching  words  in  memory  of  P.  P. 
Bliss.  Rev.  Mr.  McLeary,  of  the  Methodist 
Church,  read  the  hymn,  "We  are  going  home 
to-morrow."  An  appropriate  selection  of  Scrip- 
ture was  read  by  Rev.  Mr.  SafFord,  of  the  Con- 
gregational Church,  after  which  Rev.  J.  C. 
White,  of  the  St.  John  Episcopal  Church  of 
Cleveland,  delivered  an  eloquent  discourse  on  the 
subject  of  the  sacredness  of  human  life.  He 
was  followed  by  Rev.  S.  D.  Peet,  who  spoke  of 
llie  need  of  a  sympathy  which  should  be  un- 
selfish and  universal,  and  of  the  need  of  a  pre- 
paration for  death.  Rev.  Mr.  McGiffert,  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  also  made  remarks  upon 


THE  MEMORIAL  SERVICES.  155 


God's  knowledge  and  of  the  unrecoajnized  dead. 
The  choir  sang  another  of  the  songs  of  P.  P. 
Bhss — "There  is  a  light  in  the  valley."  The 
services  were  impressive,  and  the  great  congre- 
gation which  had  assembled,  seemed  moved  by 
deep  sympathy.  The  closing  remarks  of  Mr. 
White  were  especially  appropriate,  being  a  beau- 
tiful illustration,  showing  that  life  itself  was  but 
a  great  bridge,  one  end  of  which  lay  in  life's 
beginning,  and  the  other  stretched  into  the  great 
unknown.  It  spans  a  chasm  full  of  fire,  of  death 
and  doom.  There  are  flaws  in  it  which  were  put 
there  six  thousand  years  ago,  and  although  many 
have  gone  over  it  in  safety,  it  is  at  any  moment 
liable  to  fall  with  some  precious  soul  into  the 
abyss.  God  had  provided  a  means  of  escape, 
and  happy  was  he  who  would  avail  himself  of  it. 

A  second  service  was  also  held  at  St.  Peter's 
church,  at  which  Rev.  Dr.James  Moore  officiated, 
assisted  by  Rev.  Geo.  Carter,  of  Cleveland. 

The  procession  then  formed,  which  was  ar- 
ranged in  the  following  order: 

Marshal  Fassett  and  Coroner  Richards ;  Clergy, 
in  sleighs;  Bearers,  in  sleighs;  Assistant  Marshal; 


156  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


Masonic  Association;  Friends  of  deceased,  in 
sleighs;  Assistant  Marshal;  St.  Joseph's  Society; 
Ashtabula  Light  Guard;  Ashtabula  Light  Artil- 
lery; Citizens  generally. 

Arranged  in  a  long  line  in  front  of  the  churches 
and  alona:  the  main  street,  with  the  different 
badges  and  insignia  of  office,  this  procession 
formed  one  of  the  most  impressive  pageants  ever 
witnessed  in  the  place.  It  was  more  tiian  a  mile 
long,  and  as  it  moved  at  the  toll  of  the  bell  and 
with  the  impressive  sound  of  the  funeral  dirge 
from  the  bands  present,  every  one  was  affected 
with  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion. 

Contrasted  with  the  white  snow  which  covered 
the  landscape,thi8  array  of  mourning  and  sympa- 
thizing friends  and  citizens  moved  slowly  to  the 
last  resting  place  of  the  dead.  As  the  head  of 
the  column  entered  the  cemetery  where  were 
gathered  the  sacred  remains  which  were  to  be 
deposited  in  the  graves,  the  members  of  the 
Masonic  societies  divided,  and,  acting  as  pall 
bearers,  silently  took  up  the  coffins  which  had 
been  arranged  in  a  line  for  them,  and  bore  the 
precious  freight  to  the  open  graves,  amid  the 


THE  MEMORIAL  SERVICES.  157 


tears  of  tlie  spectators,  who  were  touched  bj  so 
unusual  a  sight,  "  It  was,  indeed,  a  scene  which 
appealed  to  the  heart  with  sombre  power  and 
deep  sympathy."  The  nineteen  coffins — con- 
taining the  secrets  of  death  which  will  be  given 
up  only  at  the  resurrection — carried  between  the 
slow-moving  ranks  of  uncovered  men;  the  sad 
fa:.'es  and  intent  gaze  of  the  silent  witnesses;  a 
few  mourning  women,  ifn  black,  standing  apart, 
made  sacred  by  their  sorrow — one  gray-haired 
man,  whose  wife  and  child  had  been  swallowed 
up  in  the  gulf,  among  them;  a  dull,  gray  sky 
overhead;  the  fitful  wind  sweeping  through  the 
bare  branches  of  the  trees;  the  shroud  of  snow, 
broken  only  by  those  yawning  graves;  the  sad 
strains  of  the  funeral  dirge,  in  time  with  the 
sobbing  of  the  women ;  the  solemn  hush  which 
men  feel  always  in  the  presence  of  death.  The 
exercises  at  the  grave  were  opened  by  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Moore,  who  read  the  burial  service  of  his 
church.  A  selection  of  Scripture  was  read  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  McGiffert,  after  which  the  Masons 
proceeded  with  their  ritual,  and  at  its  close  the 
assembled  thousands,  dismissed  with  a  benedic- 


158 


THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


tion,  proceeded  to  their  homes  or  to  the  evening 
trains  which  were  to  convey  them  out  of  the 
city. 


THE  SUICIDE.  159 


CHAPTEK  XXII. 


THE  SUICIDE. 

^|N  the  Ashtabula  "Telegraph''  appeared  the 
vJI.  following  article  : 

Another  Victim  of  the  Bridge  Disaster. 

"Our  commumtj  received  another  shock  on 
Saturday  last,  hardly  less  severe  than  that 
of  the  news  of  the  disaster  itself.  The  announce- 
ment that  Charles  Collins,  the  Chief  Engineer  of 
the  L.  ^.  &  M.  S.  road  was  dead,  without  any 
cause  but  that  he  was  found  lifeless  in  his  bed, 
carried  every  one  back  in  mind  to  the  bridge 
calamity,  and  there  was  an  intense  eagerness  for 
an  explanation.  The  evening  papers  brought 
that  explanation,  but  with  it  an  increased  effect 
upon  the  sensibilities  of  our  citizens.  He  was, 
to  be  sure,  found  dead  in  his  bed,  but  beside  him 
were  the  implements  telling  the  manner  of  death. 
He  died  by  his  own  hand.  The  story  of  his 
death  we  abstract  and  condense  from  the  Cleve- 
land dailies,  as  follows  :  Mr.  Collins'  assistant — 


160  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


Mr,  I.  C.  Brewer,  of  the  Toledo  division,  sought 
his  presence  at  his  office  on  Water  street,  on  Sat- 
urday morning,  but  not  finding  liim  or  hearing 
of  him,  passed  over  to  his  residence,  and  being 
informed  by  the  colored  man  in  charge  that  he 
was  not  there,  determined  to  make  an  examina- 
tion of  the  house  for  the  settlement  of  the  ques- 
tion— whether  he  was  in  the  house.  Upon  pass- 
ing through  the  house  everything  indicated  order 
and  quiet,  but  loneliness,  until  the  bedroom  was 
reached.  Here  he  found  the  person  of  his  search, 
dead,  and  in  the  first  stages  of  decomposition, 
marked  with  blood,  a  revolver  at  hand,  with 
which  the  deed  was  done,  and  the  handle  of  an- 
other just  showed  from  his  pillow.  The  deter- 
mined purpose  that  controlled  him  was  shown  by 
the  means  for  making  his  destruction  sure.  A 
razor  was  also  found  upon  the  bed.  It  was  found 
that  the  muzzle  of  the  revolver  had  been  placed 
in  his  mouth,  and  the  direction  of  the  ball  was 
upward  through  the  roof  of  the  mouth,  and  out 
through  the  upper  and  back  part  of  his  head. 
The  first  shot  seems  to  be  the  fatal  and  only  one. 
"In  casting  about  for  a  cause  for  this  violent 
and  shocking  death,  circumstances  point  to  the 
effect  upon  his  mind  of  the  bridge  accident  at 
this  place.  "We  find  that  he  laid  it  deeply  to 
heart,  and  when  he  first  beheld  the  scene,  he  wept 


CHARLES  COLLINS. 


THE  SUICIDE.  161 


over  it  in  an  outburst  of  grief.  That  effect  he 
seems  not  to  liave  been  able  to  shake  off.  It  fol- 
lowed him  night  and  day,  leaving  no  taste  for 
food,  and  driving  sleep  from  his  pillow,  until  he 
was  led  to  say  to  some  of  his  more  intimate 
friends,  that  he  believed  it  would  drive  him  crazy. 
His  was  a  gentle,  sensitive  nature,  and  his  pro- 
fession carried  to  its  utmost  perfection  and  suc- 
cess, which  was  shown  in  the  superior  condition 
of  the  road,  and  all  its  appointments  were  his 
chief  pride.  This  pride,  we  apprehend,  never 
extended  to  this  bridge,  as  his  rather  guarded 
observations  in  reference  to  it,  from  the  begin- 
ning, suffiaiently  indicate.  In  the  minds  of  many 
of  the  best  informed  in  this  community,  he  rather 
shrank  from  the  responsibility  of  it.  The  special 
care  of  it,  therefore,  seems  to  have  been  in  a  great 
measure,  at  least,  committed  to  other  hands. 
Whatever  his  feelings,  however,  he  could  not  in 
his  position  escape  responsibility.  The  sense  of 
that  responsibility  seems  to  have  had  a  striking 
effect  upon  hira  in  the  recent  examinations  by 
the  Legislative  Committee,  and  conferences  in 
which  he  was  present  on  Wednesday  afternoon 
and  evening — the  night,  probably,  upon  which 
the  fatal  act  was  committed.  His  state  of  mind 
was  not  unobserved  by  some  of  his  intimate  com- 
panions.    We    are  told   that   Mr.    Brewer,   his 


162  THE  ASHTABULA  DiSASTER. 


trusted  assistant,  had,  at  his  earnest  solicitation, 
consented  to  remain  with  liim  during  Monday 
and  Tuesday  nights,  and  was  surprised  at  the 
alarming  state  into  which  his  mind  had  fallen. 

It  was  further  shown  by  the  act,  and  the  man- 
ner of  it.  He  had  tendered  his  resignation  to  the 
Board  of  Directors,  on  the  Monday  before,  when 
with  tears  he  said,  '  I  have  worked  for  thirty 
years,  with  what  fidelity  God  knows,  for  the 
protection  and  safety  of  the  public,  and  now  the 
public,  forgetting  all  these  years  of  service,  has 
turned  against  me.' 

"  The  resignation  was,  of  course,  not  accepted, 
and  he  was  assured  that  his  view  was  entirely 
unjust  and  unworthy,  but  all  to  no  eflPect.  The 
thought  of  possible  injustice  still  haunted  him. 

"On  Wednesday  night  Mr.  Brewer  intended 
to  go,  as  he  had  done  the  two  previous  nights, 
and  stay  with  him  at  his  residence  on  St.  Clair 
street.  But,  upon  calling  at  the  office  and  being 
assured  that  he  had  left  no  word  for  him  either 
in  regard  to  the  evening  or  concerning  the  trip 
of  inspection  contemplated  for  Thursday,  he  con- 
cluded that  the  deceased  had  left  for  his  home  in 
Ashtabula,  where  of  late  he  spent  much  of  his 
time.  Thus  affairs  rested  till  Saturday  morning, 
when,  learning  that  he  was  not  in  Ashtabula,  Mr. 
I^rewer  feared  that  some  evil  had  befallen  him. 


THE  SUICIDE.  168 


and  going  to  the  house  he  inquired  of  the  colored 
man,  went  through  tlie  house  to  the  family  bed- 
room, and  found  the  remains  of  the  deceas^ed  as 
described  above. 

"  There  is  little  doubt  but  that  Mr.  Collins  in- 
tended to  go  on  the  proposed  tour  of  inspection 
on  Thursday,  for  his  traveling-bag  was  found 
neatly  packed  in  the  bed-room.  It  is  probable 
that  the  act  was  one  of  momentary  desperation, 
when  the  troubled  thoughts  of  the  previous  days 
and  nights,  weighing  upon  him,  made  life  hard 
to  bear. 

"Mr.  Collins'  family  had  been  in  Ashtabula, 
where  his  wife's  relatives  reside,  for  several  days, 
and  the  colored  man  supposed  that  he  was  alone 
in  the  house.  But  the  quarters  of  the  latter  are 
in  the  back  part  of  the  house,  while  Mr,  Collins' 
room  is  in  the  front.  It  is  supposed  that  Mr. 
Collins  came  in  without  the  knowledge  of  any 
one  and  went  to  bed  on  Wednesday  night. 
Everything  in  the  bed-room  confirmed  this  opin- 
ion. The  various  articles  of  his  dress  were  dis- 
posed about  the  room,  his  collar  and  necktie 
upon  a  stand  near  the  head  of  the  bed,  his  pants, 
shirt  and  coat  were  laid  over  a  chair,  and  his 
shoes  and  stockings  under  the  edge  of  the  bed. 
The  vest  was  carefully  placed  under  the  mattress. 
The  scene  presented  to  view  upon  entering  the 


164  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


room,  was  most  horrible.  Three  chambers  of  the 
large  revolver  at  the  right  of  the  corpse  were 
empty,  but  only  one  wound  was  found.  There 
was  a  hole  in  the  wall  of  the  room,  recently 
made,  such  as  a  ball  would  make,  and  it  seems 
evident  from  this  fact  that  the  deceased  was 
sitting  up  when  the  fatal  discharge  was  made. 
There  was  no  appearance  of  a  struggle,  but  the 
discoloring  of  the  blood  from  the  wound  which 
had  flowed  from  the  mouth  and  nose,  was  terrible 
to  behold.  The  face  was  badly  stained  and  pre- 
sented a  horribly  ghastly  appearance.  From  the 
fact  that  decomposition  had  already  begun,  it  is 
inferred  by  the  coroner  that  death  took  place 
some  48  hours  before,  or  on  Thursday  morning. 
"  The  deceased  was  born  in  Richmond,  N.  Y., 
in  1826,  and  was,  therefore,  51  years  of  age.  He 
was  from  an  old  and  highly  respected  family,  re- 
ceived a  liberal  education  at  one  of  the  eastern 
colleges,  and  his  professional  education  and  grad- 
uation, from  the  RenssaelerPolytechnic  Institute. 
In  this  latter  institute  he  gave  full  promise  of  the 
abilities  which  he  was  destined  to  display  in  after 
years.  Immediately  after  graduation  he  was  em- 
ployed for  several  years  in  practical  engineering 
in  various  parts  of  New  England,  and  next  took 
charge  of  some  important  work  on  the  Boston 
and  Albany  railroad.     He  came  to  this  section  of 


THE  SUICIDE.  165 


Ohio  in  1849  to  take  charge  of  locating  the  C.  0. 
C.  &  I.  railroad.  He  was  an  engineer  also  in  its 
construction.  Kext  he  was  for  a  time  superin- 
tendent of  the  Painesville  &  Ashtabula  road,  and 
when  the  L.  S.  &  M.  S.  consolidation  was  brought 
about,  he  was  given  his  present  position. 

"As  an  engineer,  Mr.  Collins  enjoyed  the  con- 
fidence of  many  of  the  leading  railroad  men  of 
the  country.  Among  them  was  Commodore 
Yanderbilt,  whose  friendship  he  also  enjoyed. 

"We  are  told  that  when  any  work  was  to  be 
performed  upon  the  great  lines  of  .which  he  had 
control,  Mr.  Collins'  plans  and  methods  were 
ajways  accepted  by  the  great  commander, without 
question,  as  the  cheapest  and  best." 


t 


166  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  MR.  COLLINS. 

'HE  funeral  services  of  Mr.  Collins  were 
held  at  Ashtabula  on  Wednesday,  Jan.  21st. 
The  occasion  was  one  of  great  interest.  The 
Cleveland  "Herald"  of  the  following  day,  says: 

"It  was  the  last  tribute  of  respect  that  could 
be  paid  by  the  citizens  of  the  place  to  a  man  who, 
while  not  a  permanent  resident,  was  one  among 
the  most  respected  and  loved.  He  held  a  prom- 
inent place  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  as  an  ex- 
emplary man  and  faithful  friend,  and  their  at- 
tendance npon  the  services  yesterday  was  the  last 
act  of  respect  to  his  mortal  remains.  Besides 
the  citizens  of  Ashtabula  present,  there  were 
many  of  the  leading  railroad  men  of  this  city, 
who  had  known  and  respected  Mr.  Collins  during 
the  many  years  they  had  been  his  triends  and 
business  associates. 

"  Rev.  Mr.  McGiffert  made  a  few  remarks 
upon  the  life  and  character   of   the'  deceased. 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  MR.COLLINS.        167 


He  said  that  the  assembly  of  people  had  been 
called  together  to  pay  the  last  tribute  to  a  man 
known  for  honesty,  uprightness  and  truthfulness 
in  all  things.  He  was  known  in  all  his  dealings 
for  that  strict  probity  of  character,  that  conscien- 
tiousness which  go  so  far  toward  making  up  the 
perfect  man.  He  had  also  the  gentle  qualities  of 
love  and  affection  for  those  near  and  dear  to  him. 
The  last  time  he  parted  from  his  wife,  a  few  days 
before  his  death,  not  knowing,  however,  that 
they  were  never  to  meet  again,  he  said  to  her 
that  he  wanted  her  to  remember  during  their 
separation,  how  well  he  loved  her.  Ue  was 
thoughtful  always  for  the  welfare  of  his  business 
associates,  and  to  the  young  men  under  him  he 
was  a  father,  a  kind  friend  and  firm  supporter. 
In  the  midst  of  his  many  business  and  worldly 
cares  he  did  not  lose  sight  of  his  church  relations, 
and  the  fruits  of  his  life  in  this  regard  are  left  to 
testify  for  him.  The  spiritual  benefit  of  his 
employees  was  not  lost  sight  of  while  other  cares 
were  piessing  upon  him.  After  land  at  Collin- 
wood  had  been  set  apart  for  the  erection  of  a 
chapel  for  railroad  men,  he  subscribed  first  $150, 
then  $350,  and  when  there  seemed  to  be  some 
trouble  in  raising  the  necessary  amount,  he  said 
that  the  chapel  should  be  built  in  the  spring,  any 
way. 


168  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


"At  the  request  of  the  familj,Mr.J.H.Devereux, 
representing  the  railroad  acquaintances  of  Mr. 
Collins,  then  made  a  few  remarks.  He  said  that 
ever  since  the  accident  at  the  bridge,  there  had 
been  passing  through  his  mind  the  idea  of  fall- 
ing waters,  and  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  lamb 
came  to  him  most  vividly.  In  some  manner  the 
character  of  Moses  and  that  of  the  dead  engineer 
had  assimilated  themselves  together  in  his  mind. 
Moses  was  the  type  of  a  perfect  engineer.  He 
ran  the  line  of  the  Israelites  through  the  wilder- 
ness to  a  land  of  security.  He  had  those  char- 
acteristics of  a  noble,  true  man,  which  made  him 
great,  and  in  just  these  particulars  did  Mr.  Col- 
lins excel,  and  they  made  him  the  leading  engi- 
neer of  this  broad  land.  The  speaker  referred  to 
the  veneration  of  the  deceased,  and  referred  to 
the  fact  that  he  always  rested  on  the  Sabbath  day, 
and  that  his  office  was  always  closed  on  that  day, 
and  that  he  often  went  to  the  house  of  God. 
Mr.  Devereux  attempted  to  say  a  few  words  to 
the  friends,  but  found  himself  too  much  moved 
to  speak  further,  and  closed  with  a  few  words  of 
prayer." 

Mr.  Collins  was  a  man  who  was  held  in  high 
esteem  by  all  who  knew  him.  At  the  memorial 
services  which  were  held  in  Cleveland,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Ilayden,  his  pastor,  said  of  him: 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  MR.  COLLINS.        169 


"Mr.  Collins  had  a  praying  mother,  and  when 
one  owes  so  much  to  a  praying  mother  as  I  do, 
he  will  not  fail  to  make  important  mention  of 
this  fact.  In  1849  he  came  to  Ohio  and  began 
the  work  of  laying  out  th6  Cleveland,  Columbus, 
Cincinnati  and  Indianapolis  railroad.  Here, 
amidst  the  hardships  of  pioneer  life,  there  were 
many  temptations  to  desecrate  the  Sabbath,  yet 
during  all  this  time  the  young  man  remembered 
tha  influence  of  the  good  mother,  and  manifested 
a  high  moral  sentiment  throughout.  His  life 
work  on  the  Lake  Shore  and  Michigan  Southern 
railroad  was  begun  in  1851,  and  from  that  time 
till  the  moment  of  his  sudden  death,  his  constant 
attention  was  given  to  this  great  thoroughfare, 
and  his  death  itself  was  a  sacrifice  to  it.  The 
busy  engineer  always  had  time  to  look  after  the 
betterment  of  his  employees,  and  there  is  to-day 
many  a  family  living  upon  its  own  lot,  through 
his  beneficence." 


170  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 


THE   LOVED   AND   LOST. 

'HERE  was  a  young  lady  on  that  train. 
Accomplislied  and  beautiful,  she  had  al- 
ready become  the  object  of  admiration  to  many, 
and  was  the  pride  of  fond  parents.  Blooming, 
buoyant  and  hopeful,  she  was  a  delightful  com- 
panion. Her  light,  rosy  complexion  so  radiant 
made  her  a  picture  of  health.  She  used  to 
laugh  and  say  to  her  mother,  "I  never  have 
any  compliments  except  that  I  am  such  a 
healthy  looking  girl,"     Her  mother  writes: 

"  On  her  sweet,  fair  hand  she  wore  a  slender 
thread  of  gold  which  held  the  setting  of  a  very 
brilliant,  though  not  large,  diamond.  On  the 
same  finger  she  wore  a  heavy,  plain,  gold  ring." 
Her  w«i*drobe  was  very  complete  and  almost  en- 
tirely new.  Her  jewelry  consisted  of  turquoise, 
pearls,  Florentine  mosaics  and  Genoese   silver. 


THE  LOVED  AND  LOST.  171 


Everything  she  had  in  the  way  of  ornament  or 
jewelry,  she  had  with  her.  She  had  a  link  gold 
necklace  and  gold  handkerchief  ring, with  a  small 
ring  for  the  finger  attached  by  a  slender  chain. 
A  Chegary  medal  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  enam- 
eled cross,  was  in  her  trunk,  the  sign  of  honor 
from  the  school  where  she  had  graduated.  In 
that  trunk  were  also  many  dresses,  beautiful  and 
expensive  and  becoming  to  her  form.  All  she 
had,  she  took  with  her.  Her  bridesmaid's  dress 
was  with  her;  she  was  dressed  in  it  only 
the  week  before  at  the  wedding  of  her 
dearest  friend;  she  also  had  it  on  at  a 
wedding  the  night  before  she  started.  Yet 
she  was  not  a  mere  child  of  fashion!  She 
was  born  to  social  position  and  always  accustomed 
to  society;  it  was  the  daily  habit  of  her  life 
but  brought  no  excitement  with  it.  She 
really  cared  but  little  for  parties,  and  often  spoke 
in  that  way.  She  was  an  active  member  of 
the  Episcopal  church  and  very  conscientious  in 
the  performance  of  her  duties.  Her  love  of 
sacred  mnsic  seemed  like  an  inspiration ;  I  have 
watched  her  face  become  almost  transfigured  by  a 


173  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


holiness  of  expression  which  would  flit  across  it 
while  she  was  singing.  She  had  been  kept  sin- 
gularly free  from  the  little  vanities  and  excite- 
ments of  a  young  lady's  life,by  the  grace  of  God, 
who  kept  her  as  pure  a  child  as  when  He 
gave  her  to  me  a  precious  infant.  Oh!  it  comes 
to  me  now  how  carelessly  I  thought  of  my 
treasure.  How  little  I  appreciated  the  great 
trust  that  God  had  given  me.  How  I  thought 
of  her  as  an  ordinary  girl." 

The  thought  of  her  death  had  never  entered 
the  minds  of  her  parents.  But  she  died,  and 
everything  connected  with  her  was  strangely 
swept  away.  The  sad  consolation  of  weeping 
over  her  silent  remains  was  denied.  Her  pic- 
ture, for  which  she  stood  two  days  before  her 
starting,  was  the  only  mercy  which  God  had 
vouchsafed  the  parents.  Her  mother  again 
writes :  "  It  would  indeed  be  a  comfort  to  me  to 
have  even  one  little  thing  which  would  seem  a 
part  of  herself,  but  we  have  not  one  trace  of  her 
personal  belongings."  Her  funeral  was  attended 
in  the  city  of  her  home,  but  the  remembrance  of 
her  sweet  spirit  and  beautiful  voice  was  all  that 
the  friends  had  to  comfort  them. 


THE  LOVED  AND  LOST,  173 


The  following  are  the  eloquent,  heart-felt  words 
which  dropped  from  the  lips  of  an  affectionate 
and  aged  pastor  at  her  funeral,  as  the  sweet 
fragrance  of  her  life  and  spirit  came  before 
his  mind.     He  says: 

"  I  dare  hardly  venture  a  few  words  upon  the 
sweet  singer  of  our  Israel,  who  was  but  yesterday 
the  charm,  and  the  graceful  and  elegant  ornament 
to  our  choir.  Here  she  won  the  confidence  and 
love  of  all  of  us.  Here  she  uttered  those  sweet 
sounds  which  captivated  all  hearts.  Here  she 
became  known  to  us  as  the  happy,  the  cheerful, 
the  glad  and  always  unselfish  and  noble -natured 
girl,  the  almost  idol  of  her  bereaved  pare-its  and 
the  pride  and  joy  of  her  companions.  Here  on 
the  last  day  of  our  Holy  Communion  service  she 
was  present  and  joined  with  us  in  that  hallowed 
song  of  love  and  worship  which  she  now  repeats 
and  sings  with  the  angels  and  blessed  spirits  of 
that  other  and  better  world,  in  the  presence  of 
God  and  His  holy  angels." 

Thus  passed  away  the  beautiful,  the  lovely,  the 
song-like  spirit  of  sweet  Minnie  Mixer. 

The  story  has  be.m  told  of  a  young  man  who 
so  anxiously  looked  for  some  trace  of  his  mother's 
body  during  those  sad  days  in  which  so  much 
sorrow  was  concentrated. 


174  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


A  description  of  that  mother's  character  has 
been  well  drawn,  by  those  who  knew  her. 

Mrs.  Adelia  E.  Moore,  ol  Ilammondsport,  was 
a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church  and  the  fol- 
lowing are  the  tributes  of  affection  bestowed 
by  the  clergymen  who  officiated  at  her  funeral. 

Rev.  Mr.  Gushing  said  of  her: 

"Can  I  ever  forget  her  presence  and  her  image 
under  my  own  roof  during  three  of  the  most  pain- 
fully anxious  days  of  my  life,watching  through  the 
long,  long  winter  night;  wakeful  to  every  sound, 
to  every  movement,  to  eviiry  want;  the  low, 
soothing  voice,  the  noiseless  step,  the  gentle  hand 
wiping  away  the  clammy  sweat,  and  standing  by 
us,  patiently  and  willingly,  until  the  crisis  was 
past  %  (Mrs.  C.  dangerously  ill  of  pneumonia  is 
the  occasion  referred  to.)  I  could  not  but  refer 
to  this,  not  only  as  an  expression  of  grateful 
acknowledgement  which  is  justly  due,  but  also  as 
speaking  for  many  others  to  whom  she  was  a 
friend  indeed,  because  a  friend  in  need — just  that 
kind  of  need  in  which,  above  all  other  needs,  we 
feel  the  weakest,  the  most  utterly  powerless  in 
our  own  unaided  selves. 

"In  this  way,  and  in  these  kind  offices,  she  may 
be  said  wherever  residing  and  through  all  the 
mature  years  of  her   life,  to   have  gone   about 


THE  LOVED  AND  LOST.  175 


doing  good,  unostentatious,  unpublished  good; 
and  tlie  crowning  beauty  of  it  all,  as  respects  her, 
is  that  she  claimed  no  nierit  for  these  disinter- 
ested acts,  expected  no  human  recompense,  but 
performed  them;  went  at  any  one's  call,  be- 
cause she  deemed  it  her  duty  to  go,  or  because  it 
was  the  impulse  of  her  sympathizing  heart.  She 
was  truly  the  Good  Samaritan  of  her  sex." 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Gardner  also  said: 

"And  oh!  how  much  we  shall  all  miss  her;  we 
shall  miss  her  as  a  busy  parish  worker;  we  shall 
mi-ss  her  in  the  Sunday-school,  and  her  class  of 
little  children  will  sadly  miss  her;  so  will  the 
Ladies'  Sewing  Society  miss  her,  for  she  was  one 
of  its  chief  workers,  but  memorials  of  her"  in 
the  Society's  work  will  long  remain — even  longer, 
perhaps,  than  any  of  us  shall  live  to  see.  And 
the  sick  and  afflicted  will  most  surely  miss  her; 
for  it  may  be  said  of  her  as  it  was  of  her  Divine 
Master,  she  'went  about  doing  good.'  For  this 
work  she  had  a  peculiar  fitness — going  in  and 
out  among  the  sick  as  if  it  were  her  special  call- 
ing. Many  are  the  families  where  she  has  min- 
istered, and  with  one  voice  they  will  attest  all 
that  I  have  said  of  her.  But  above  all,  her 
family  will  miss  her — the  wife  and  mother,  the 
sister  and  near  relative  are  gone,  gone  before, 
not  lost." 


176  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


And  the  Rev.  Mr.  Howard  said  of  her: 
"Of  the  estimable  lady  whose  death  we  com- 
memorate, it  may  be  said  that  one  has  been  taken 
out  from  the  bosom  of  this  church  and  of  tliis 
community,  w:ho  was  inspired  and  warmed  with 
all  its  life,  religious,  social  and  domestic;  alive 
to,  and  promoting  according  to  her  ability,  every- 
thing which  conduced  to  its  welfare  and  im- 
provement. All  the  consolation  which  may  ever 
be  legitimately  drawn  from  Christian  character, 
may  be  justly  claimed  and  appropriated  here. 
She  was  indeed  a  good  woman,  and  one  of  the 
saints  of  God." 


SKETCHES  OF  CHARACTER.  177 


CHAPTER  XXY. 


A 


SKETCHES  OF  CHARACTER. 

f AITY  noble  characters  were  lost  to  the 
jworld  in  this  great  calamity. 

Yery  few  disasters  ever  reached  so  far,  or 
brought  bereavement  to  so  many  communities. 
The  breadth  of  the  land  was  swept  by  it.  There 
never  was  so  widespread  mourning  for  any  death 
which  brought  loss  to  only  private  circles.  It 
was  more  like  the  mourning  which  follows  the 
death  of  some  public  officer — some  great  and 
good  man — when  a  nation  is  called  upon  to  weep. 

It  was,  indeed,  almost  a  national  calamity. 
The  very  mention  of  the  names  of  the  dead,  and 
the  places  to  which  they  belonged,  shows  how 
many  communities  were  afflicted,  and  the  very 
funerals  which  were  held,  indicate  how  many  cir- 
cles were  bereaved. 

They  were  not  all  private  mourners,  nor  were 


178  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


they  merely  different  circles  of  friends  sharing 
in  a  common  sorrow.  Churches  mourned  their 
beloved  pastor  or  the  most  useful  members; 
villages  and  even  counties  were  made  to  feel  the 
loss  of  the  skilful  physician;  the  whole  land — 
yes,  the  world — has  been  impressed  by  the  silence 
which  came  so  suddenly  upon  the  tongue  of  the 
SA^eet  singer  of  Israel ;  and  the  various  circles  of 
society,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  were 
affected  by  the  death  which  invaded  so  many 
classes. 

Out  of  this  number  of  worthy  characters  who 
went  down  in  that  awful  plunge  where  so  many 
mourn,  it  is  difficult  to  select,  for  it  is  easy  to 
say  many  things  in  praise  of  all.  Indeed,  a  vol- 
ume might  be  written  which  should  contain 
nothing  but  the  memoirs  of  the  lost.  The  fol- 
lowing sketches  are  given  out  of  regard  to  those 
who  have  so  kindly  encouraged  the  author  in  the 
task  which  he  has  undertaken,  as  well  as  from  an 
admiration  of  the  characters  which  have  been  so 
faithfully  portrayed  by  those  who  knew  the  per- 
sons well. 

The  name  of  E.  P.  Rogers  has  been  men- 


SKETCHES  OF  CHARACTER.  179 


tioned.  Of  him,  Rev.  Dr.  Collyer  lias  spoken, 
and  the  following  selection  from  a  sermon 
preached  in  Chicago  is  given,  as  descriptive  of 
his  character. 

Speaking  of  all  of  those  who  perished  in  the 
train,  he  sajs: 

"They  are  lost  to  this  world  before  their  time. 
Hundreds  of  homes  will  have  a  shadow  on  them 
many  years.  Children  are  fatherless  and  mother- 
less. Men  and  women  are  weeping.  The  whole 
world  about  us  is  poorer  and  saddej*,  and  there 
is  no  compensation  which  can  reach  the  case. 
Here  was  our  fellow-townsman,  Mr.  Rogers,  in 
the  prime  of  his  life,  steady  and  true  as  the  day, 
a  man  whose  bond  you  would  not  want  if  you 
had  his  word,  or  even  his  word  if  you  knew  he 
had  made  up  his  mind.  There  were  a  mother 
and  sister  in  his  old  Eastern  home,  to  whom  his 
presence  in  the  world  was  as  the  shadow  of  a 
great  rock  in  a  weary  land ;  people  here  trusting 
their  property  to  him  as  the  soul  of  prudence 
and  honor,  and  resting  without  a  fear  on  his 
sturdy  strength.  Gone  in  the  midst  of  his  days, 
with  the  kiss  of  his  mother  and  sisters  fresh  on 
his  mouth.  Gone  with  the  world  in  his  heart, 
the  sweet,  unwholesome  world  in  which  he  was 
so  glad  to  live.     Gone  with  these  things  all  to  be 


180  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


done  that  only  an  honest  and  trusty  man  can 
do.  Gone  from  every  place  that  knew  him,  and 
was  glad  for  him.  Gone — and  not  a  trace  of  him 
friendship  or  kinship  or  love  could  recognize. 
Gone  into  heaven,  and  wanted  on  the  earth.  It 
is  no  great  comfort,  I  fear,  to  those  who  were 
very  near  him  to  think  of  him  in  the  eternal  rest. 
They  want  him  here,  and  ought  to  have  him  here, 
and  would  have  him  but  for  that  which  human 
integrity  and  clear  manhood  might  have  pre- 
vented. It  is  such  sad  things  as  this  that  put  the 
most  terrible  emphasis  on  this  question.  God 
asks,  'Why  will  ye  die  V  and  starts  the  wonder 
when  we  shall  summon  the  better  spirit  to  do 
whatever  can  be  done  to  put  an  end  to  these  great 
disasters." 

The  following  biographical  outlines  are  given 
by  Eev.  L.  Hand  of  Polk  City,  Iowa: 

"  George  Francis  Hubbard  was  born  in  Ipswich, 
Mass.,  May  12th,  1841,  and  so  had  passed  his 
35th  anniversary.  His  parents  removed  to 
Claremont,  N.  H.,  before  he  was  a  year  old,  in 
which  place  he  spent  his  childhood  and  youth. 
He  studied  at  Meriden  Academy,  Dartmouth 
College,  and  Harvard  Medical  School.  His  first 
professional  work  was  in  St.  John's  College  Hos- 
pital in  Annapolis,  Md.,  during  the  war.     He 


SKETCHES  OF  CHARACTER.  181 


came  to  Polk  City  eleven  years  ago  last  Septem- 
ber, and  a  year  later  was  married  to  Eliza  E.  Tone, 
who  survives  liim  with  three  daughters.  His 
life  work  has  been  here;  here  he  has  won  his 
fortune,  his  good  name  and  a  warm  place  in  the 
affections  of  our  citizens.  During  these  eleven 
years  he  has  applied  himself  with  great  diligence 
to  his  professional  work.  Few  men  have  been 
able  to  endure  so  much  labor  and  fatigue.  You 
all  know  of  his  long  rides,  sometimes  lost  on  the 
prairie  in  the  stormy  night,  long  seeking  some 
known  object  to  guide  his  way,  sometimes  swim- 
ming his  horse  across  the  high  river. 

"During  this  time  he  has  studied  to  keep 
abreast  with  the  progress  made  by  his  profession, 
reading  medical  journals,  attending  the  meetings 
of  the  profession  and  most  of  the  time  directing 
the  reading  of  a  student  in  his  office.  Few 
physicians  carry  to  their  patients  more  of  sym- 
pathy and  personal  interest,  making  his  visits 
more  like  those  of  a  wise  friend  than  that  of  a 
professional  man.  A  man  who  was  very  intimate 
with  him  for  years,  told  me  that  few  persons 
knew  how  severely  he  studied  his  cases.  Thfere 
is  a  limit  to  the  sympathy  any  one  man  can  give, 
but  no  one  could  come  nearer  to  carrying  every 
patient  upon  his  heart  as  though  it  were  that  of 
a  personal  friend.    His  bearing  was  that  of  mod- 


182  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


est  self-distrust  which  forbore  claiming  to  fully 
understand  his  work  or  making  large  promises  of 
cure.  He  carried  to  the  sick  bed  a  cheery  kind- 
liness, mingled  with  that  dignity  and  self-reliance 
which  quickly  commanded  confidence. 

"As  a  citizen  he  had  that  public  spirit  which 
made  him  prompt  to  sustain  our  educational  and 
religious  institutions,  or  any  interest  that  pro- 
motes the  public  weal.  As  a  member  of  our 
Common  Council  he  stood  alone  in  opposing  the 
change  in  an  ordinance  which  opened  the  door 
for  the  licensing  of  saloons  in  our  village.  He 
has  Ions'  been  a  member  of  the  orders  who  have 
charge  of  this  burial  service  to-day. 

"He  became  a  member  of  this  church,  some 
eight  years  ago.  For  it  he  has  faithfully  worked 
and  generously  given.  Many  is  the  long  ride  I 
have  shared  with  him  when  all  these  matters  were 
fully  discussed,  and  it  appeared  how  closely  he 
cherished  and  valued  these  interests  of  religion. 
He  was  by  temperament,  conservative  and  cau- 
tious, not  the  most  hopeful,  but  his  hold  was 
steady  and  firm  to  any  work  to  which  he  applied 
himself.  It  will  be  asked  in  many  circles,  how 
can  we  get  along  without  him,  but  nowhere  with 
more  feeling  and  fear  than  in  this  little  church 
circle." 


p.  p.  BLISS. 


p.  p.  BLISS.  183 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 


p.  p.  BLISS. 

|]S"E  of  the  saddest  things  connected  with 
the  whole  calamity,  and  the  circumstance 
which  made  the  event  a  personal  bereavement  to 
many  thousands  of  people,  was  the  death  of  Mr. 
P.  P.  Bliss  and  his  wife. 

His  name  will  always  be  associated  with  Ash- 
tabula in  the  sad  memories  of  that  licmr.  Yet 
there  are  brighter  visions  connected  with  that 
name,  which  have  a  tendency  to  relieve  the  gloom 
of  that  whole  calamity. 

The  very  mention  of  those  loved  persons  brings 
up  the  memory  of  their  sweet  songs.  These 
songs  may  be  supposed  to  echo  in  the  air,  and  to 
mingle  with  all  the  mourning,  so  as  to  give 
almost  a  melody  to  the  melancholy  sounds.  It 
is,  indeed,  a  plaintive  song.  Yet  there  is  a  hope- 
ful, scul-thrilling   strain  running  through  it  alL 


184  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


The  memory  of  the  sweet  singer  is  a  joyful, 
happy  one,  bringing  delightful  associations  to  the 
minds  of  all  who  knew  him.  Few  persons  ever 
endeared  themselves  to  so  many  people  in  so 
short  a  life;  but  his  spirit  delighted  others  with 
its  very  sweetness. 

The  early  days  of  Mr.  Bliss  were  spent  in  toil. 
His  parents  were  in  humble  circumstances,  and 
while  yet  a  youth,  his  father  died,  leaving  him  to 
meet  the  obstacles  of  life  with  only  the  counsel 
of  his  mother,  whom  he  loved,  but  dependent  on 
his  own  exertion  for  a  livelihood.  For  a  time 
the  young  man  was  engaged  as  a  hired  hand  upon 
a  farm.  His  home  was  at  this  time  in  the  west- 
ern part  of  Pennsylvania,  where  also,  he  received 
a  partial  education  as  a  pupil  of  the  collegiate 
institution  at  Towanda,  Pa. 

After  a  short  period  of  study  he  went  to 
Rome,  Pa.,  and  taught  a  district  school.  Here 
he  met  the  lady  who  became  his  wife  and  to  whom 
he  ascribed  the  main  part  of  his  success.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  O.  F.  Young,  Esq.,  of  Eome, 
an  Elder  in  the  Presbyterian  Church.  He 
used  to  say  to  his  friends,  "All  I  am,  I  owe  to 


p.  p.  BLISS.  185 

my  wife."  Under  the  influence  received  from 
her,  he  entered  upon  the  study  of  music,  and  first 
felt  the  stirrings  of  that  gift  which  made  him  so 
usefuh  Together  they  went  to  Prof.  Root's 
Normal  Academy  at  Geneseo,  N.  Y.,  where  he 
made  great  advancement  in  music,  and  won  the 
admiration  of  his  gifted  teacher. 

It  was,  however,  in  Chicago,  that  his  musical 
career  really  began ;  but  it  is  a  singular  fact  that 
fire  was  the  element  that  brought  out  the  genius 
ot  the  man,  as  well  as  that  in  which  his  spirit 
was  released  from  his  body,  and  borne  to  higher 
realms. 

He  often  remarked  that  it  was  the  great  fire 
which  made  him,  because  it  liberated  him  from 
secular  occupations,  and  led  him  to  devote  him- 
self to  the  Lord's  work.  At  the  time,  he  was 
in  the  employ  of  the  firm  of  Root  &  Cady,  but 
the  flames  which  laid  in  ruins  the  great  city, 
also  swept  away  his  house,  and  from  that  event 
forward  he  seemed  to  have  no  home  except  where 
the  service  of  song  might  lead  him.  He  became 
connected  with  Rev.  Dr.  Goodwin's  church  as 
chorister      and      superintendent,     and      there, 


186  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


he  won  all  hearts,  not  only  by  his  singing, 
but  by  his  remarkable  devotion  as  a  Christian. 

The  choir  meetings  were  always  opened  with 
prayer;  he  spoke  and  wrote  personally  to  the 
members  of  the  choir  on  the  subject  of  religion ; 
and  he  trained  and  improved  them  so  that  they 
sung  from  the  impulse  of  loving  and  pious 
hearts.  Dr.  Goodwin  bears  testimony  to  his 
usefulness  in  this  position,  and  says  that  Mr. 
Bliss'  services  in  the  choir,  rendered  his  ministry 
more  earnest,  pleasant  and  fruitful. 

It  was,  however,  in  connection  with  the  pre- 
cious revival  work  that  the  genius  of  Mr.  Bliss 
was  brought  to  that  higher  flight  which  gave 
such  a  broad  influence,  and  caused  his  song  to  be 
heard  throughout  the  land.  About  six  years  ago, 
Major  Whittle  and  he  first  ventured  out  in  the 
gospel  work.  It  was  then  that  he  began  to  put 
words  to  music,  both  of  which  had  sprung  from 
the  deep  melody  of  his  own  heart. 

At  a  meeting  held  in  Rockford,  111.,  a  story 
was  told  which  thrilled  him  with  its  interest,  and 
under  the  inspiration  of  it,  he  with  a  glowing 
heart,  composed    that    noble  song,    "Hold   the 


p.  p.  BLISS.  187 

Fort,"  which  has  done  so  much  to  arouse  and 
cheer  the  Christian  people  in  every  land. 

From  this  time  his  own  hymns  inspired  the 
melody  which  he  sang.  There  was  the  inspira- 
tion of  a  heart  full  of  love,  united  to  a  voice  rich 
and  expressive  of  emotion.  "The  effect  of  his 
singing  was  wonderful."  "Melting  in  the  fervor 
of  his  emotion,  with  tears  tilling  his  eyes,  he 
sang  his  modes't  lyrics  until  every  heart  owned 
the  spell."  He  was  the  author  of  the  most  pop- 
ular songs  used  in  the  Moody  and  Sankey 
meetings.  Any  one  who  has  heard  these,  may 
know  what  power  they  have  had  in  moulding 
character,  and  in  stirring  souls  to  a  lofty  de- 
votion. 

The  hymns  "What  shall  the  harvest  be," 
"Whosoever  will,"  "More  to  follow,"  "That  Will 
be  Heaven  for  me,"  "Almost  Persuaded,"  were 
written  by  his  pen,  and  the  music  inspired  by 
his  genius. 

He  also  wrote  the  music  of  many  other  of  the 
favorite  hymns  which  have  been  sung  by  so  many 
thousands.  He  wrote  many  of  his  songs  upon 
the  sudden  inspiration  of  some  incident.     For 


188  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


instance^  when  Mr.  Moody  at  one  of  his  meet- 
ings told  the  story  of  the  wreck  of  the  steamer 
at  Cleveland,  and  had  said  that  it  was  because 
the  lights  on  the  pier  were  not  burning,  he  was 
thrilled  with  the  anecdote,  and  impressed  with 
the  truth  it  illustrated,  at  once  wrote  out  that 
beautiful  song,  "Let  the  lower  lights  be  burn- 
ing," and  set  it  to  music. 

For  the  last  three  years,  Mr.  Bliss  has  given 
himself  to  the  work  of  composing  and  singing 
for  the  revival  meetings.  This  was  done  through 
the  earnest  persuasions  of  Mr.  Moody.  His  suc- 
cess was  very  great.  It  was  said  at  his  funeral 
that  probably  no  other  man  has  ever  reached  so 
many  hearts  by  song  as  he.  Mr.  Moody  said  : 
"This  man  who  has  died  so  young,  his  hymns 
are  now  sung  around  the  world.  Only  a  few 
days  ago  a  book  came  to  me  from  China,  and 
there  were  his  hymns — his  hymns  translated  into 
Chinese.  They  are  going  into  all  the  world — 
all  around  the  world." 

Rev.  Dr.  Goodwin  said  that  it  was  a  joyful 
thought  that,  though  dead,  the  brother's  work 
had  just  begun. 


p.  p.  BLISS.  189 

A  little  time  ago  a  friend  from  South  Africa 
had  written  how  he  stopped  for  a  night's  rest  in 
the  Zulu  country,  when  Brother  Bliss'  song, 
"Hold  the  Fort,"  burst  upon  his  ear  from  a 
company  of  natives.  Just  so  his  influence  for 
good  would  spread  and  increase. 

Some  of  his  songs  seem  to  be  almost  prophetic 

of  his  death.     The  last  one  which  he  sang  in  the 

Tabernacle  just  before  starting  for  the  East  was 

one  which  will  always   be   associated   with  his 

name: 

I  know  not  the  hour  when  my  Lord  will  come 
To  take  me  away  to  His  own  dear  home, 
But  I  know  that  His  presence  will  lighten  the 
gloom. 
And  that  will  be  glory  for  me! 

I  know  not  the  song  that  the  angels  sing, 
I  know  not  the  sound  of  the  harp's  glad  ring, 
But  I  know  there'll  be   mention  of  Jesus  our 
Kin^, 
And  that  will  be  music  for  me. 

I  know  not  the  form  of  my  mansion  fair, 
I  know  not  the  name  that  I  then  shall  bear. 
But  I  know  that  my  Saviour  will  welcome  me 
there, 
And  that  will  be  heaven  for  me. 

Another  has  been  spoken  of  by  a  friend  as 
also  prophetic  even  of  the  manner  of  his  death, 


190  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


although  it  was  composed  on  the  occasion  of  that 

other  fire  which   consumed   his  home   and  the 

homes  of  thousands  of  others   in   the  doomed 

city.     It  reads: 

Hark  !  the  alarm,  the  clang  of  the  bells! 
Signal  of  danger,  it  rises  and  swells! 
Flashes  like  lightning  illumine  the  sky, 
See  the  red  glare  as  the  flames  mount  on  high! 

Chorus — Roll  on,  roll  on,  O  billows  of  fire! 

Dash   with   thy   fiery   waves  higher  and 

higher; 
Ours  is  a  mission  abiding  and  sure — 
Ours  is  a  kingdom  eternal,  secure. 

On  like  a  fiend  in  its  towering  wrath. 
On,  and  destruction  alone  points  the  path; 
Mercy,  O  heaven!  the  sufferers  wail; 
Feeble  humanity  naught  can  avail. 

The  manner  of  Mr.  Bliss'  death  was  remark- 
able. He  had  been  with  his  wife  to  the  home  of 
his  parents  in  Towanda,  Pa.,  where  his  children 
were  staying,  but  as  he  had  an  appointment  at 
Chicago  for  the  Sabbath,  he  hastened  to  return. 

Kissing  the  children  a  last  farewell  he  left 
Rome,  Pa.,  and  took  the  Erie  train  at  Waverly, 
for  Chicago.  His  last  stop  was  at  Hornellsville, 
where  the  strange  presentiments  came  upon  him 
which  were  so  near  to  persuading  him  to  forsake 
the  ill-fated  train  and  take  another  route. 


p.  p.  BLISS.  191 

Then  came  that  ride  over  the  Lake  Shore  and 
the  awful  plunge  into  the  chasm  at  Ashtabula. 
His  wife  was  with  him.  "United  in  life  they 
were  not  divided  in  death." 

It  is  said  that  but  a  short  time  before,  the  good 
man  was  seen  reading  his  Bible,  and  at  the  hour 
of  his  death  was  quietly  composing  a  hymn. 
The  two  died  together  as  the  fatal  flames  ap- 
proached, giving  their  lives  as  a  song  which 
should  reach  the  better  land. 

Like  martyrs  they  died  singing  their  songs  of 
faitli,  at  least  in  their  hearts,  and  together  sharing 
the  baptism  of  fire. 

Memorial  services  were  held  in  the  Tabernacle 
at  Chicago,  where  he  was  expected  on  the  follow- 
ing Sabbath,  at  which  Mr.  Moody,  Mr.  Sankey, 
Rev.  Dr.  Goodwin,  and  Rev.  Dr.  Thompson  took 
part.  The  Tabernacle  was  appropriately  draped 
and  the  exercises  were  very  impressive. 

The  funeral  services  were  held  at  Towanda,  Pa., 
the  home  of  his  mother,  on  Sabbath,  January  7th. 
Rev.  Dr.  Goodwin,  of  Chicago,  preached  the 
sermon,  and  Major  D.  W.  Whittle  gave  an  ad- 
dress full  of   interesting   reminiscences,  which 


192  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  many.  At  its  close 
Mr.  Bliss'  last  hymn,  found  among  his  papers 
and  entitled  "He  Knows,"  was  sung,  "it 
breathed  the  full  spirit  of  his  life." 

So  I  go  on  in  the  dark,  not  knowing — 

I  would  not  if  I  might — 
I  would  rather  walk  with  God  in  the  dark 

Than  walk  alone  in  the  light; 
I  would  rather  walk  with  Him  by  faith 

Than  walk  alone  by  sight. 

Rev.  Dr.  Groodwin  in  speaking  of  this  funeral, 
afterward  said  that  he  thanked  God  he  had  the 
privilege  of  going  to  it.  "Not  a  shadow  had 
come  over  his  face  or  the  face  of  the  friends 
whom  he  went  to  see. 

"There  was  the  gray-haired  grandmother  of 
eighty-three  years,  her  face  already  shining  with 
the  light  of  the  Heaven  to  whicl^she  was  so  near. 
When  the  news  was  told  her  she  said,  'Only  a 
step  has  Philip  gone  in  advance  of  me.'  The 
parents  of  Mrs.  Bliss  walked  calm,  without  a 
murmur,  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow. 

"Of  the  thirty  or  forty  relatives,  with  but  one 
exception,  all,  old  and  young,  accepted  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  foundation  upon  which  they  stood. 


MRS.  P.  P.  BLISS, 


p.  p.  BLISS.  193 

The  faces  of  these  bereaved  ones  shone  as  faces 
never  shine  till  God  comes  into  the  heart  and 
banishes  sorrow. 

"Who  ever  saw  a  funeral  service  turned  to  an 
inquiry  meeting?  Yet  at  that  service  twenty- 
five  persons  avowed  their  determination  to  serve 
God,  and  at  the  evening  service  ten  or  fifteen 
more  did  the  same." 

Another  memorial  service  was  also  held  at 
Chicago  on  January  15th,  at  Rev.  Dr.  Goodwin's 
church,  where  IVfr.  Bliss  began  his  public  life  as 
a  singer,  and  where  his  memory  is  cherished  ten- 
derly, affectionately. 

The  large  church  was  crowded,  nearly  three 
thousand  people  present. 

His  pastor  on  this  occasion  paid  tribute  to  the 
character  of  his  friend.     He  said: 

1st.  "He  was  one  of  the  most  hopeful  men  I 
ever  knew.  His  life  was  unclouded,  or  at  least 
the  clouds  came  not  to  tarry.  Not  that  he  was 
exempt  from  trouble.  He  had  his  share  of  trial, 
discipline,  and  disappointment.  He  knew  what 
it  was  to  be  misapprehended — to  have  mean  and 
selfish  motives  imputed.  He  knew  what  it  was 
to  stand  by  the  bedside  of  one  who  was  dearer  to 


194  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


him  than  life,  whom  he  expected  might  at  any 
time  be  called  away.  But  his  mind  was  in  the 
promises  of  God.  His  heart  was  above  the 
clouds  and  was  assured  of  the  truth.  Mr.  Bliss 
will  be  better  known  in  the  future  as  the  singing 
pilgrim. 

"As  he  went  on  in  the  Christian  life  the  Hal- 
lelujah grew  more  frequent.  There  are  few  of 
his  songs,  wherever  they  begin,  which  do  not 
before  they  close,  land  us  in  the  glory  of  the 
Heavenly  Land.  Take  even  'Light  in  the  dark- 
ness. Sailor.'  The  last  verse  begins,  'Bright 
glorious  the  morning,  Sailor,'  and  it  ends  with  a 
'Glory,  Hallelujah.' 

"The  second  feature  of  his  character  was  his 
peculiar  benevolence. 

"  I  know  not  what  proportion  he  set  aside,  but 
I  have  known  the  fund  to  amount  to  $1,000  in 
six  months.  He  was  unselfish  in  everything. 
His  devotion  was  always  fervent.  "When  our  old 
church  was  burning,  Mr.  Bliss  pointed  to  the 
cross  that  surmounted  the  gable  and  to  the  great 
front  window  illuminated  by  the  flames  and  asked 
a  member  of  the  Sunday-school,  '  Why  will  you 
not  come  over  to  us  on  the  side  of  the  cross  ?  It 
never  looked  to  me  more  beautiful  than  it  does 
now,  high  above  the  flames,  surrounded  by  stars, 
and  it  is  certain  to  have  the  victory.' 


p.  p.  BLISS.  195 

"All  these  features  culminated  in  the  last  trait. 
He  was  the  gospel  singer  of  the  age. 

"Why  is  it  that  while  so  many  hymns  pass 
out  of  mind,  some,  like  'Eock  of  Ages,' 
'Just  as  I  am,'  'Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,'  have 
become  the  hymns  of  the  Christian  church?  Is 
it  not  because  the  words  of  God's  truth,  and 
especially  of  the  Gospel,  are  in  them?  You  do 
not  read  John  Wesley's  sermons  but  you  sing 
Charles  Wesley's  hymns.  Kecall  some  of  Mr. 
Bliss'  hymns, — 'I  am  so  glad  that  Jesus  loves 
me,'  'No  other  name  is  given.'  There  is  not  in 
the  range  of  English  hymnology  one  writer  who 
put  God's  truth  into  song  with  the  power  and 
sweetness  that  Mr.  Bliss  has. 

"You  remember  the  story  of  Mr.  Latimer, 
how  he  wandered  drunk  into  the  Tabernacle  and 
was  so  aroused  by  Mr.  Sankey  singing,  'What 
shall  the  harvest  be.' 

"Throngs  and  throngs  are  yet  to  go  up  from 
this  world  to  testify  that  the  songs  inspired  of 
God  while  Mr.  Bliss  was  on  his  knees  led  them 
to  Christ." 

The  "Advance,"  of  Chicago,  contains  the  fol- 
lowing: "It  takes  much  from  the  sadness  of  the 
singer's  awful  death  that  his  life  was  so  rounded 
and  complete.  His  work  had  been  so  well  done 
that  death  could  not  surprise  him  and  find  him 


196  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


with  his  mission  unaccomplished.  He  had  made 
his  mark,  and  the  marl^  will  remain.  His  life  has 
stopped,  but  hii  work  goes  on;  in  every  church 
and  in  every  home  all  over  the  world,  and  years 
from  now,  when  even  his  name  may  be  lost,  his 
songs  will  still  continue  to  inspire  faltering  men 
and  women  with  courage,  to  bring  consolation 
into  the  house  of  mourning,  to  arouse  faith  in 
the  human  heart.  For  such  a  life,  so  perfect,  so 
successful,  so  far-reaching  in  its  influences,  spent 
in  the  most  beneficent  of  labor  and  lost  at  the 
post  of  duty,  there  should  be  no  tears.  Other 
voices  will  take  up  his  strains,  and  the  work  will 
go  on  without  stop.  Their  simple  beauty  is  not 
marred,  nor  is  their  wonderful  influence  upon  the 
popular  heart  lessened  by  his  death.  Noble  and 
impressive  in  his  physique,  affable  and  genial  in 
his  contact  with  every  one,  earnest  and  untiring 
in  his  work,  he  will  long  be  missed  as  a  leader  in 
the  evangelical  movement  which  is  n(>w  stirring 
the  popular  heart;  but  he  has  left  his  impress 
upon  the  world,  with  results  more  lasting  than 
the  work  achieved  by  heroes  of  the  battle-field  or 
masters  of  state-craft.  His  harp  is  forever  silent ; 
his  voice  is  forever  hushed ;  but  the  songs  which 
he  sang  can  never  die.  Their  melody,  like  the 
brook,  goes  on  forever." 


TESTIMONY  OF  WITNESSES.  197 


CHAPTEY  XXYII. 


TESTIMONY  OF  WITNESSES. 

^^HE  following  is  tlie  testimony  of  some  of 
^fy  the  more  important  witnesses  before  the 
Coroner's  Jury.  It  is  taken  from  the  short  hand 
report  made  at  the  time,  but  abridged  as  much 
as  possible. 

MB.  A.  L.  EOGEKS  TESTIFIES: 

I  was  foreman  of  the  raising  of  the  bridge; 
superintended  the  screwing  of  nuts  to  bring  the 
strain  upon  the  vertical  rods;  Amasa  Stone  ex- 
amined it  and  said  my  part  of  the  work  was  well 
done;  after  knocking  out  the  blocks,  the  bridge 
settled  six  inches ;  it  settled  gradually  as  we  put 
in  thinner  blocks  and  took  them  out  to  put  in 
still  thinner  ones;  it  was  not  in  use  during  this 
time;  Mr.  Stone  then  decided  to  reconstruct  the 
bridge,  by  changing  the  position  of  certain  irons 
and  braces ;  the  bridge  was  constructed  after  this 
design,  with  one  exception ;  the  struts  running 
from  the  bottom  cord  to  the  middle  of  the  first 


198  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


pair  of  braces  were  not  put  in  till .  afterward ;  a 
change  was  made  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
upper  cords,  which  were  shortened;  after  these 
changes  Mr.  Stone  examined  it  without  taking 
out  tlie  blocks,  and  pronounced  it  good ;  the  false 
work  remained  in  position  from  October,  1865, 
to  November,  1866. 

Cross-examined — When  the  bridge  was  first 
put  up,  it  settled,  and  I  made  the  remark  that 
if  it  kept  on,  it  would  go  into  the  creek;  per- 
haps I  told  it  to  half  a  dozen  others;  said  it 
was  not  Mr.  Collins'  bridge,  but  Mr.  Stone's; 
said  the  bridge  had  cost  a  great  deal  of  money, 
but  don't  recollect  saying  it  would  cost  the  com- 
pany a  great  deal  more;  was  discouraged  because 
the  bridge  acted  so,  and  that  I  couldn't  see  how 
to  remedy  it;  remember  all  this  was  before  the 
modifications  were  made;  Mr.  Congdon  was  with 
Mr.  Stone  when  the  bridge  was  examined;  the 
plan  of  changing  the  braces  was  then  adopted. 

Mr.  Albert  Congdon,  testified  as  follows:  At 
the  time  of  the  construction  of  this  bridge  I  was 
employed  by  the  Lake  Shore  Eoad  as  master 
machinist;  knew  something  about  the  construc- 
tion of  this  bridge,  as  I  had  charge  of  the  work 
in  making  the  bridge;  found  a  lack  of  material 
to  fill  the  place  for  which  it  was  designed ;  told 
Mr.  Thompson  about  it,  and  he  wanted  to  know 


TESTIMONY  OF  WITNESSES.  199 


if  he  had  better  let  Mr.  Stone  know  it;  told  him 
he  had  better;  a  short  time  afterward  I  was  told 
to  take  the  plans  and  finish  the  construction  of 
the  bridge  as  I  thought  it  should  be  done;  do  not 
know  how  far  the  work  had  progressed  at  the 
time  I  assumed  control;  the  braces  were  not 
marked  so  as  to  designate  the  position  they  were 
to  occupy;  never  calculated  the  strength  of  the 
tension  of  compression  members;  did  not  say 
much  to  Mr.  Tomlinson  or  any  other  man  abou* 
the  bridge,  as  I  did  not  consider  myself  a 
competent  bridge  man;  from  the  time  of  Mr. 
Tomlinson  leaving,  I  had  the  management  of 
constructing  the  bridge;  Mr.  Kogers  told  me 
that  Mr."  Stone  had  given  him  orders  to  erect  it, 
but  he  did  not  know  how;  I  asked  him  why  he 
did  not  go  and  tell  Mr.  Stone  so,  and  he  said  that 
he  did  not  like  to;  I  then  told  him  as  much  as  I 
knew. 

Testimony  of  the  man  who  drew  the  plans  for 
the  Ashtabula  bridge. 

Joseph  Tomlinson  is  sworn.  Resides  in  Otta- 
wa, Ont.  Is  General  Superintendent  of  Light- 
houses in  the  employ  of  the  Canadian  Govern- 
ment. Was  engaged  in  bridge-building  from 
1840  to  1870.  lie  made  the  drawings  for  the 
iron  Howe  truss  bridge  over  Ashtabula  Creek — 
the  one  which  had  lately  fallen.     He  did  this 


200  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


under  instructions  from  Mr.  Stone.  He  never 
approved  of  a  wronght-iron  Howe  truss  over  a 
large  span.  It  makes  an  unnecessarily  heavy 
bridge,  and  all  the  strain  accumulates  at  the  end 
braces.  Notwithstanding  its  weight,  it  would 
hav^e  been  a  strong,  durable  bridge  had  the  main 
braces  been  sufficiently  strong,  Thej  were  not 
made  as  large  as  designed,  and  it  was  his  inten- 
tion that  they  should  be  strengthened,  but  his 
connection  with  the  Company  was  severed  on 
account  of  a  difference  that  arose  between  him- 
self and  Mr,  Stone  concerning  the  bridge, 

Mr.  A.  Gottlieb,  engineer  of  the  Keystone 
Bridge  Company,  at  Pittsburg,  Pa.,  was  next 
called.     He  testified  as  follows: 

When  the  wrecked  bridge  was  constructed,  the 
building  of  iron  truss  bridges  was  in  its  child- 
hood, compared  with  the  progress  made  since 
that  time. 

The  first  objectionable  point  in  the  bridge, 
therefore,  was  the  unnecessarily  great  dead 
weight;  the  second,  the  lack  of  sufficient  section 
in  the  upper  cord;  also  the  manner  in  which 
the  beams  forming  said  cord  were  bound  to- 
gether, which  brought  much  more  strain  on  some 
of  them  than  on  others. 

I  have  made  a  careful  examination  of  the 


TESTIMONY  OF  WITNESSES.  201 


wrecked  bridge  as  it  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the 
river,  and  also  of  the  map  of  the  bridge  as  made 
by  Mr.  Tomlinson,  and  I  think  that  I  have  ob- 
tained a  very  good  idea  of  the  construction  of  the 
wrecked  bridge,  I  do  not  think  that  the  Howe 
trass  pattern  is  very  well  adapted  to  a  heavy  iron 
bridge.  During  ray  examination  I  did  not  see 
anything  in  the  plan  or  construction  of  the 
bridge  that  would  lead  me  to  think  that  the 
extremes  of  heat  or  cold  would  injure  it.  I  nev- 
er knew  of  any  other  wrought  iron  bridge  con- 
structed on  the  Howe  truss  pattern. 

Before  the  committee  appointed  by  the  Legis- 
lature of  Ohio,  the  following  testimony  was  also 
given  by  Mr.  Amasa  Stone,  the  former  President 
of  the  Road: 

Mr.  Stone  swore  that  he  designed  the  bridge, 
but  only  superintended  the  drawing  of  the  plan, 
while  the  details  of  construction  were  given  into 
the  hands  of  Mr.  Albert  Congdon,  who  was  super- 
vised by  Mr.  Joseph  Tomlinson. 

I  have  never  constructed  any  other  Howe  truss 
bridge  with  wrought-iron  braces,  and  know  of  no 
other  anywhere  in  the  country.  When  Mr.  Rog- 
ers made  the  mistake  of  putting  in  the  braces  it 
was  not  negligence  in  permitting  him  to  continue 
the  superintendence  of  the  erection  of  the  bridge. 


202  THE  ASHTABULA    DISASTER. 


for  there  was  no  other  particular  in  which  he 
could  have  made  a  mistake,  ft  was  not  even 
unwise  to  permit  him  to  continue.  When  the 
bridge  was  changed  in  correcting  the  mistake 
there  were  no  more  braces  inserted. 

Cha&:  Collins,  the  engineer  of  tlie  road,  testified 
before  the  same  committee,  as  follows : 

About  the  time  the  bridge  was  built,  my  duties 
were  so  heavy  I  was  relieved  from  looking  after 
the  bridge.  I  never  mentioned  to  any  one  that 
the  bridge  was  not  mine  and  that  I  did  not  want 
anything  to  do  with  it,  since  it  was  placed  under 
the  charge  of  a  bridge-man;  I  thought  it  out  of 
place  for  me  to  say  anything  about  it.  I  never 
knew  of  another  bridge  being  built  of  wrought 
iron  on  this  plan.  I  think  the  bridge  was  rather 
an  experiment. 


LESSONS  OF  THE  EVENT.  203 


CHAPTER  XXYIil. 


LESSONS  OF  THE  EVENT. 

CS*HE  narrative  of  this  great  disaster  is  fin- 
^£ly  ished ;  space  does  not  admit  of  the 
addition  of  further  material. 

All  that  remains  to  be  said  is  of  a  religious 
nature.  Mr.  Devereaux,  as  representative  of  the 
friends  of  the  Road,  beautifully  alluded  to  Moses 
as  a  Civil  Engineer.  So  we,  in  conclusion,  go  to 
the  word  of  God  for  the  lesson  of  the  hour. 

Moses  went  up  the  mountain  and  received  the 
patterns  of  all  things  which  were  to  be  made;  but 
the  Israelites  were  not  permitted  to  transgress  the 
bounds  set  at  the  base,  "lest  thej  die."  Skill  in 
art  and  architecture  was  in  those  days  regarded 
as  an  inspiration  from  God,  as  was  proved  in  the 
case  of  Bezaleel,  who  had  knowledge  of  all  in- 
ventions. 

In  our  day  we  have  invaded  the  region  of 


204  THE  ASHTABULA   DISASTER. 


storms,  and  have  thouglit  to  seize  the  forces 
which  belong  to  the  Ahnighty;  but  the  result 
has  been  death — death  unforseen,  unexpected, 
appalling,  heartrending.  Men  have  found  by 
hard  experience  that  it  is  dangerous  to  lav  hold 
of  these  grand  elements  of  nature.  Until  they 
have  become  more  reverent,  conscientious.  God- 
fearing and  unselfish,  they  are  not  fit  to  enter  the 
dangerous  precincts  where  the  Almighty  dwells. 
In  some  way,  even  if  knowledge  is  attained,  the 
sin  and  selfishness  of  men  will  bring  the  light- 
nings and  the  fire  out  of  the  mountain,  and  men 
shall  surely  die. 

The  great  forces  of  nature  have  a  sacredness 
about  them,  and  the  laws  of  the  universe  an  in- 
violability, which  will  admit  of  no  wantonness  or 
careless  handling  for  selfish  ends.  But  until  a 
sense  of  accountability  to  God  prevails,  the  safety 
of  property  and  of  human  life  cannot  be  secured. 
No  coroner's  jury,  no  legislative  committee,  no 
congressional  enactment,  will  make  men  realize 
how  sa-red  are  many  of  these  responsibilities 
of  life.  The  haste  to  get  rich  and  the  de- 
sire to  make  men  serve  the  purpose  of  money- 


LESSONS  OF  THE  E  VENT.  305 


getting,  and  the  control  over  many  to  the  enrich- 
ment of  the  few, will  destroy  the  sense  of  account- 
ability and  blind  men,  so  that  they  run  profanely 
into  the  very  place  where  God  has  the  hidings  of 
his  power,  but  the  result  is  that  they  do  not  know 
how  to  handle  the  lightnings  and  to  control  the 
storms,  and  they  are  appalled  at  the  calamities 
which  their  own  temerity  has  brought  down. 

The  people  must  understand  that  with  all  this 
control  over  the  elements,  the  increase  of  knowl- 
edge and  power,  there  is  no  safety  anywhere 
except  in  God.  It  is  sad  that  this  lesson  has  to 
be  impressed  by  many  deaths  when  it  is  taught 
by  every  one.  The  terrible  experiences  of  many, 
concentrate  because  we  will  not  listen  to  the  hints 
gjven  gently  to  each  of  us.  The  storms  and  hur- 
ricanes and  great  shocks  and  calamities  and  hor- 
rid deaths,  come  because  we  will  not  listen  to 
wisdom ;  and  yet  God  is  not  in  the  storm  or  in 
the  earthquake,  but  is  in  the  still  small  voice. 

It  is  indeed  well  to  say  that  safety  must  be 
secured,  selfishness  shall  be  rebuked,  laws  should 
be  studied,  skill  employed,  this  blundering,  heed- 
less, reckless  mode  of  life  must  be  stopped ;  but 


806  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


where  in  all  the  advance  of  art  and  education,  has 
there  appeared  immunity  from  accidents  or  safety 
from  death.  No,  with  all  the  conservatism  which 
may  be  advocated,  with  all  the  plans  for  skilled 
labor  and  with  all  the  attainment  of  knowledge, 
is  there  not  need  of  that  which  God  alone  can 
give,  even  the  bringing  in  of  a  better  hope. 

If  there  were  no  vanities,  errors,  or  per- 
versities to  bring  destruction  from  out  the  ele- 
ments which  men  have  not  learned  to  control, 
even  then  death  would  come.  There  must  be  a 
higher  life  which  is  not  subject  to  the  destructive 
forces.  The  mercy  of  God  and  the  deliverance 
wrought  out  for  us  by  His  Son  has  respect  as 
much  to  the  material  creation  as  to  the  moral 
state.  In  some  way  we  shall  attain  to  a  further 
control  of  the  unseen  forces  and  shall  know  more 
of  the  great  laws  of  God.  But  happy  are  we  if 
the  death  which  must  come,  shall  be  like  that  of 
Moses,  who,  after  his  long  wanderings  and  faithful 
discharge  of  duty,  went  up  Mount  Pisgah  and 
looked  over  the  promised  inheritance  to  which 
the  people  should  enter,  but  he  himself  took  up 
his  dwelling  place  with  God. 


THE  CORONER'S  VERDICT.  207 


THE  CORONER'S  VERDICT. 


"It  is  from  a  careful  consideration  of  the  evidence  elicited 
from  professionals  and  experts  that  our  verdict  is  mad  ;  up 
in  the  matter  of  the  bridge,  and  should  it  seem  severe  upon 
the  railway  company,  or  upon  any  of  its  past  or  present 
officials,  it'  is  because  tlij  '  ruth,  as  shown  by  the  evidence, 
demands  it  at  our  hands.  We  cannot  do  less  and  feel  that 
we  have  discharged  our  duty.  Mr.  Amasa  Stone,  President  of 
the  company,  at  the  time  of  the  erection  of  this  structure, 
had  been  for  years  a  prominent  and  successful  railroad  con- 
tractor and  builder  of  wooden  Howe  truss  bridges.  With 
the  undoubted  intention  of  building  a  strong,  safe,  and 
durable  wrought-iron  bridge,  upon  tae  Howe  truss  plan,  he 
designed  the  structure,  dictated  the  drawing  of  the  plans 
and  the  erection  of  the  bridge,  without  the  approval  of  any 
competent  engineer,  and  against  the  protest  of  the  man  who 
made  the  drawings  under  Mr.  Stone's  direction,  assuming 
the  sole  and  entire  responsibility  himself.  Iron  bridges 
were  then  in  their  infancy,  and  this  one  was  an  experiment 
which  ought  never  to  have  been  tried  or  trusted  to  span  so 
broad  and  so  deep  a  chasm.  This  experiment  has  been  at  a 
fearful  cost  of  human  life  and  human  suffering.  Unques- 
tionably, Mr.  Stone  had  great  confidence  in  his  own  abili- 
ties, and  believed  he  could  build  and  had  built  a  structure 
which  would  prove  the  crowning  glory  of  an  active  life  and  ' 
an  enduring  monument  to  his  name.  That  tiie  officials  of 
the  railroad  regarded  the  bridge  as  safe  we  have  no  doubt, 
as  two  of  them  were  on  the  train  that  went  down,  and  all 
were  more  or  less  frequently  passine  over  it.  That  the  fall 
of  the  bridge  was  the  result  of  defects  and  errors  made  in 
designing,  constructing,  and  erecting  it.  That  a  great 
defect,  ajd  one  which  appears  in  many  parts  of  the  struc- 
ture, was  the  dependence  of  every  member  for  its  efficient 


30ii  THE  ASHTABULA  DISASTER. 


action  upon  the  probability  that  all  or  nearly  all  the  others 
would  retain  their  position  and  do  the  duty  for  which  they 
were  designed,  instead  of  giving  each  member  a  positive 
connection  with  the  rest,  which  nothing  but  a  direct  rupture 
could  sever.  That  the  railway  company  used  and  continued 
to  use  this  bridge  about  eleven  years,  during  all  which  time 
a  careful  inspection  by  a  competent  bridge  engineer  could 
not  have  failed  to  discover  the  defects.  For  the  neglect  of 
such  careful  inspection,  the  railway  company  alone  is 
responsible.  That  the  responsibility  of  this  fearful  disaster 
and  its  consequent  loss  of  life  rests  upon  the  railway  com- 
pany, which,  by  its  chief  executive  officer,  planned  and 
erected  this  bridge;  that  the  cars  in  which  the  deceased 
passengers  were  carried  into  the  cliasra,  were  not  heated  by 
heating  apparatus  so  constructed  that  the  fire  in  them  would 
be  immediately  extinguished  whenever  the  cars  were  thrown 
from  the  track  and  overturned ;  that  their  failure  to  comply 
with  the  plain  requirements  of  the  law  places  the  responsi- 
bility of  the  origin  of  the  fire  upon  the  railway  company; 
that  the  responsibility  for  not  putting  out  the  fire  at  the 
time  it  first  made  its  appearance  in  the  wreck,  rests  upon 
those  who  were  the  first  to  arrive  at  the  scene  of  the  disas- 
ter, and  who  seemed  to  have  been  so  overwhelmed  by  the  fear- 
ful calamity  that  they  lost  all  presence  of  mind,  and  failed  to 
use  the  means  at  hand,  consisting  of  the  steam  pump  in  the 
pumping-house  and  the  fire  engine  Lake  Erie  and  its  hose, 
which  might  have  been  attached  to  the  steam  pump  in  time 
to  saVe  life.  The  steamer  belonging  to  the  Fire  Depart- 
ment, and  also  the  Protection  fire  engine,  were  hauled  more 
than  a  mile  through  a  blindinj^  snow-storm,  and  over  roads 
rendered  almost  impassable  by  the  drifted  snow,  and  arrived 
on  the  ground  too  late  to  save  human  life;  but  nothing 
should  have  prevented  the  Chief  Engineer  from  making  all 
possible  eftorts  to  extinguish  what  fire  there  remained. 
For  his  failure  to  do  this  he  is  responsible.  The  persons 
deceased,  whose  bodies  were  identified  and  those  whose 
bodies  and  parts  of  bodies  were  unidentified  came  to  their 
death  by  the  precipitation  of  the  aforesaid  cars,  in  which 
they  were  riding,  into  the  chasm  in  the  valley  of  Ashtabula 
creek,  left  by  the  falling  of  the  bridge,  as' aforesaid ;  the 
crushing  and  burning  of  cars  aforesaid,  for  all  of  which 
the  railway  company  is  responsible." 


